


You called?

by howsharry



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Difficult Relationship, Drug Abuse, Eggsy has depression, Fix-It, Harry gets the fucking message, Harry's Alive, Hurt/Comfort, I suppose, M/M, Merlin's pissed, Night mares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Post V-Day, Slow Build, Somehow, Suicide Attempt, Trauma, don't generalize, more domestic than badass, own experience, spoiling, trigger warning for abuse in chaper 20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:52:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 45,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howsharry/pseuds/howsharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Times after V-Day are tough, but the Kingsmen can slowly get up on their feet again. Everyone gets on- except Eggsy, now knighted Tristan, it seems. Haunted by the carousel of his thoughts, he looses himself in desperation and finds himself on (very) top of Tower Bridge one night. He leaves a voicemail for his former mentor, a goodbye slash suicide note, and ...doesn't jump.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the fist chapter and more of an introduction to what follows.  
> All mistakes are my own, please be nice, for I am a foreign noodle.  
> Enjoy the pain!

“Take care of yourself.” Those were Roxy’s words when they had parted in front of the shop in Savile Row. It was a last, tired attempt to help Eggsy through the pain he visibly had begun to feel again after the adrenaline and the euphoria of victory had faded on their flight back to London. 

Suddenly, everything was dull again. For both of them, of course, after Merlin received news from the other kingsman agents of whom a third was apparently killed in the previous events. Still Roxy knew that the aftermath would hit her friend harder than most others. She would sleep tight tonight from exhaustion and probably Eggsy would do the same for this night, but the emptiness in his eyes made her worry. He barely focused on her, when they said their goodbyes. 

Eggsy just nodded and took a cab to his flat, where he dropped dead into the sheets. 

Distraction is the thing, apparently. It doesn’t matter if it’s saving the world from a biochemical mass-destruction weapon or fighting 5 hitmen at once or training the recruits. Eggsy did everything to avoid being alone with his thoughts for too long. He took short, cold showers, exercised until his eyes fell shut in the gym and finally had time to catch up on all the stuff Kingsman still wanted him to learn in order to become an official agent, which wasn’t much of a question anymore. Having his further education together with the new Lancelot was a real treat in this mess.

For some weeks it seemed like the organization had really gone tits up. With a third of the most experienced agents missing, of course they had to start a new line of recruits. Maybe it all wouldn’t feel this estranged to Eggsy if Harry was still with them. Merlin run the thing, he was bloody good at his job, but the stress wore them all out.

And when finally after a slightly calmer week Eggsy felt like everything was going to be okay - when he finally saw some light at the end of this tunnel of bureaucracy and death and overworked agents -, sooner or later he found himself on the floor of Harry’s living room, a drink in one hand an at the brink of tears, because suddenly and unexpectedly it was all too much again. Just like now.

Eggsy looked around, just barely taking the room in. It wasn’t the first night he felt like this - wrenched, outworn, exhausted - but it was the first time he was actually able to analyze what the fuck was happening. The drinking made him calm, for once, and he began to realize what to which extent his misery had grown.

He felt caged in a numb body, hopelessly and helplessly restricted to the borders of his skin. Eggsy wanted to cry and rage, smash something against the creme-coloured walls, but an unending flow of doubts made him sit still. Ill thoughts, mean thoughts. He didn’t knew how to stop. And he knew he shouldn’t be here, where his grief added to his over-all sorrowful state, but he couldn’t help. He. Just. Could. Not. Help. He wanted to get up and get home, but he didn’t. 

A tear ran down his cheek as he hiccuped from gulping the whiskey.  
‘A hiccup happens, when somebody thinks of you’, he heard his moms voice in his head. Harry definitely had a murder hiccup-session, wherever he was now, Eggsy thought grimly and swallowed to get rid of the reflex.

He had been too young to actually get to know the pain of loss, the pain of being left alone when his father died. He grew quite used to being alone after that when his mum met Dean and they spend most of the time drunk or high or raging on turkey.  
Alone protected him, being left - well, it just hurt. Eggsy much preferred getting stabbed or shot or even getting his toenails ripped off to this haunting grieve of being left behind by someone you love.

He knew very well that Harry didn’t left him intentionally, he knew very well that they all had really “lost” Harry. But it didn’t feel like the passive form to Eggsy at all.

Because of course he had loved Harry bloody Hart, how could one not? 

Eggsy tried to get rid off those thoughts before he was halfway through his swooning again and nearly hit the realization that this man was dead. He tried. Like he was even able. Eggsy knew it just destroyed him further, he knew thinking of Harry after a long but productive day ripped all those wounds open again. But he couldn’t help, he just could not.

Eggsy soon grew angry at himself for this. He wished he could think of something else than this goddamn video feed and those last words they had and how the bullet blew through Harry’s head. This was so unhealthy. 

And though his grieve didn’t effect him in the day at all - they all just went on with it. Memories of Harry were, after all, some sort of happy place for the first two drinks after work, where Eggsy could escape from the stress. After the third it would begin to get masochistic, but Eggsy needed to hold onto these images or he felt like he was going to loose his mind completely.

In the end, he ran up the stairs and dropped into Harry’s guestroom spare bed where he slept most of the weeknights. It’s closer to work, Eggsy told himself. You can’t let him go, whispered the voice inside his head.  
Crying himself into sleep was a habit now. 

Getting up got harder. It took him energy to even make the decision, he had to convince himself, that he needed to leave the bed, take a shower, leave the house, go to the briefings and the gym.  
Fuck me, he frowned at the mirror every morning. 

As if going on missions wasn’t hard enough, he began to wish himself home more often and more intensely during the cab rides from the hotel to the restaurant where the mark dined or at the rooftops of buildings where he had just positioned his sniper.

Staying in motion got harder. Three month after his knighthood ceremony he felt like every step he went wrenched both energy from his body and his mind. He often got impatient due to tiredness, or upset with himself because he was unable to concentrate.

Everybody at Kingsman was busy, had their own minds and problems and perspective. Eggsy imagined himself standing in a room full of faceless people, running around buzzing with business, calling, yelling, shoving and pushing each other. Everyone had a task, but him. He just waited for something to come along and the longer it took, the more insecure he grew.

Due to the lack of agents caused by the sudden death of many on the ‘V-Day’, as it was called now, he could rarely catch Roxy for a talk or a pint. Not with the Korean elections and the renewal of the Tokyo-Protocol going on. Not that he wasn’t busy himself, but as soon as a task was completed he felt that sense of being lost in a foreign city again. And Merlin had his hands full with - well, everything. Recruits and bosses of other agencies demanding help and don’t even get him started on the MI6.

Eggsy helped where he could but it drained him more and more. As if every morning he woke up with less fatigue than the morning before.

As Eggsy further observed these changes within, him he firstly got angry at whoever fault it was to make all agents work beyond exhaustion - that would be Valentine - and secondly he realized, how pathetic he must have looked in contrast to Roxy, who seemed to thrive under the pressure. She flourished while he shrank slowly like a stabbed tire. 

His insecurities from the time before he got announced Tristan, the time when he still thought not passing the final test mattered more than saving the actual fucking world, came back. Was he too weak? Didn’t he have the strength Roxy represented and did it really first show when he had to shoot the pug? He had thought it was about intelligence and trust after Harry explained to him it was a blank, but maybe - just as the underground test - it was really about holding on even if the situation was hot.  
Well, he failed the final test. No surprise his security began to crumble now.

Eggsy realized he also - beside of Harry’s charm and warmth and humor - really missed being looked after. That he in fact needed someone who would take him by the hand every now an then, lead him through this maze of yelling handlers and stressed out agents Kingsman HQ was nowadays. It was all new and exciting but so overwhelming, too. Oh, and how he missed the evenings out with Roxy or Harry or both of them - sometimes even accompanied by Merlin. It was then when he had really been able to recollect himself after a mission some fucked up things going on in HQ, as it was almost always the case.

But they scarcely had those nights anymore. And Rox and Merlin seemed too busy for Eggsy to ask them out now - besides he really should get along alone with his problems, shouldn’t he?  
Even if they asked if everything was okay, rushing through the hallway or passing each other in the shop, it wasn’t like he could just blurt it out. He could barely clothe his thoughts in words. He trusted them, but he didn’t feel like showing his weak side when he knew these were the times where they all needed to give the most.

And so he began to look for comfort in the presence of JB or in his bed with the TV or his laptop before him so he could shut his brain down for some hours. Even if he did something with his friends again, he thought, he probably wasn’t able anymore to enjoy it as much for he had not felt happy for a long time. In fact, he felt constantly down. And he wasn’t sure how long he could fake a smile on those hypothetical occasions.

Eggsy took notice of his isolation when he realized he hesitated to call Roxy over a concert they both planned to visit some months ago. Maybe it wasn’t important to her anymore and he would just annoy her? He did call in the end, but it took some consideration.

It was at night when he felt the most miserable and useless. And even the memory of Harry’s comforting hand on his shoulder or his lower back - the little moments they used to share - couldn’t calm him down anymore. His thoughts were unsorted, the image and the sensation soon began to fade and blurred even more, when he tried to concentrate. And then the carousel began. 

His thoughts whirled around, crashed into each other, stopped rather sudden, melted into one and created terrible, hypothetical scenarios that seemed far too real for some reason. After they terrified the rest out of him, they left him to an empty void without any perspective and hope for it to get better. 

He certainly was going to fail if he kept on being in this state. He was going to die in field action because he was distracted or emotionally overcharged. He already could hardly concentrate on what his handler told him over the comm. What if someone decided he wasn’t mentally fit enough for this job? He’d loose his financial stability, the flat for Mum & Daisy, his friends at Kingsman - who meant the world to him. He would loose his chance to work on the potential Harry had talked about so often.

Harry would have been disappointed, again, Eggsy imagined and curled up in his bed.

Eggsy slept far too much to be this tired all the time. So he tried to sleep for 5-6 hours, 3 after that, and went back to his maximum of ten, but nothing changed. 

Training between missions got harder, because it didn’t give him the kick, the adrenaline he needed to supress his exhaustion anymore. His fighting style got monotone, uncreative, which he hated. He more and more tended to be impatient and unsatisfied with himself and drowned it in a drink, or two.

Kingsman agents always ate a lot, because - well, they burned a fucking shit ton of calories. Eggsy gained some weight because he missed training more often now, but it wasn’t enough for the others to notice. Feeling his body and mind change more and more, Eggsy grew desperate to end this numbness of his mind and the waves of sadness. But he could barely grasp what was happening, how could he change it?

He tried drugs. First the one he was familiar with: pot, mushrooms, amphetamines. The latter worked for the day but the aftermath was a catastrophe. Eggsy supposed the consuming of harder drugs wouldn’t make it better and dropped the experiment. 

One day he opened the cupboard in Harry’s bathroom to search for a disposable razor blade, when his eyes sticked to a white pill box. A golden Kingsman logo was engraved in the side of the sterile looking plastic and he knew what kind of pills those were. He had the same pain killers in his flat although not this kind of maxi pack.

For a second his mind got stuck. What if?, he asked himself rather hypothetically, almost with scientific interest. How many would be enough to take him down? To make him pass out? Kill him? Two hands should be far more than enough, he thought with sudden clarity. There was a way out, he thought, a possibility to make it all end. To make the carousel stop.

He began to check on the pills every time he visited the bathroom and then began to carry the right amount of pills (he googled the deadly dose of the active ingredient and made sure it would be a fast, painless death, if he decided for it) in a smaller box with him.

It became an anchor. When he was called into Merlin’s office and got pissed at for being mentally distracted and negligent at field action, Eggsy knew he could end this and this illusion of control alone made it bearable. Or when the traffic got the last of him after a 12-hour-flight from New Zealand. He had them with him when he visited Harry’s empty grave and laid yellow flowers down. 

He could end the pain. He could gain back control over himself, over his body. Finally he felt powerful again in making decisions because there was always a way out.

“What you got there?”, Roxy asked in the changing room when the box fell from Eggsy’s suit jacket’s pocket to the floor with a loud clackering.

“Painkillers”, he answered honestly. “Broken rib’s killin’ me”, he lied and went on stuffing clothes and a towel into his gym back. 

“From Malawi, huh?”

The effort it took him to smile was almost too great, but he had to convince his friend of his well-being. He mustn’t bother her.

“Came fuckin’ flyin’ from the bushes”, he snapped back. “Bastard had to pay fo’ this.”  
Roxy chuckled and patted him on the back on her way out.

“Have fun with your family tonight.”

Daisy made such a mess of herself at dinner that Eggsy couldn’t stop laughing for a solid five minutes, a monthly record. It all seemed good - his mum was content, Daisy was in an especially good mood and he himself felt only a tiny bit blue instead of miserable - until he visited the bathroom and took his jacket off to sprinkle his face with cold water.  
The box rattled and he was reminded of it again. 

How could he even think of suicide, when his mum and sis sat happily in the kitchen without a single clue? They needed him, he thought.  
Eggsy went quiet after his visit of the loo, sulking in his thoughts and watching his darling sister. His mum watched him carefully, but didn’t say anything. She tucked Daisy into bed and Eggsy excused himself to go home. To Harry’s.

Merlin had stopped scolding him but instead tried to talk. His voice was firm and steady, but his eyes spoke of a deep worry for his agent. Eggsy fled. He didn’t understand himself, how was he supposed to explain it to his boss?

He met with Jamal a week later, it was October then. His friend knew very little about his current life, only that he had a new job he excelled in and - he heard this from Eggsy’s mum - that he had lost a friend very dear to him. An he thinks Eggsy looks like shit solely because of that. Well it’s certainly part of the whole demise but... Jamal definitely was fast a foot to sell him some therapy he himself visited after his brother was shot.

Poor Jamal. Eggsy declined politely. “This ain’t ‘bout ‘arry”, he mumbled and shook his head. This was about him and his life and how they both seemed to have grown apart, metaphorically speaking. His head’s gone crazy itself, only partly because he thought of Harry often, but he didn’t tell Jamal that. They talked about football and their old borough. 

When Roxy supposes something similar to therapy the next week, Eggsy doesn’t roll his eyes anymore but gets angry. He yells at her and looses his temper. He hadn’t planned that. At least Roxy understands he wants to be left alone - even if that is probably the last thing he wants, but he communicates it that way. 

He still takes the pills with him, never really stopped.


	2. ER

It’s the night when everything goes tits up.

It started when he woke up in his own vomit on Harry’s creme-colored carpet and left for HQ just to find Roxy still sour with him for not talking properly to her and also realizes that JB feels more home with Merlin than with him. It’s facile but it does show him how little he cared for the dog the last weeks and months. How little he cared for everyone. 

He’s distracted, gets himself a sprain while training and leaves HQ because he couldn’t stand another rant from anyone. He just wants to go home, get himself drunk or whatever. 

It’s not going to get better, he thinks with this sudden clarity again as he turns the key in the door. It’s getting worse. 

He wants to do it. He came to the decision some time ago and maybe now it’s time. He grabs for his pills but he fucking left them in his jacket in the infirmary when they told him to strip down. In a desperate rage he grabs his car keys from the keyboard again and leaves the house. He doesn’t leave a note, it’s not like he has anything to say. 

He could throw himself in front of the tube, he thinks but frowns at the thought. What the fuck, there could be children. Eggsy turned the car and entered the street with a horrid tempo. If this was his last ride he was going to make it a fun one. He remembers those suicide reports some years ago and has crossed to red traffic lights before the name comes to his mind: Hornsey Lane Bridge. High enough, but the bridge arches over the A1 highway and he doesn’t want to be scraped off the street in the morning after the nights traffic rolled over his body. 

Fucking tower bridge then, he thought. Water should be cold enough already. 

He stops by a shop and gets a cheap bottle of Gin which he intends to drink beforehand. After twenty minutes he’s climbing up the left tower and balancing on the balustrade. Under his feet is a restaurant, but it hasn’t opened this late. Eggsy sits down in the middle of the balustrade, waggling with his feet in the air, and draws a deep breath. 

London looks beautiful. It’s by far the dirtiest city with the best reputation but he loves it with every inch of his being. He can see the spectacular ugliness of the London Eye and some skycrapers at the river whose name he can’t remember. Up here it’s quiet, almost uncomfortable still with all those background noises on both sides of the river Thames. 

He looks down to the hard surface of the water. Something about 50 meters should be enough for him to black out when hitting and then drown drunkenly in the black water. 

He looks up again and finds his hands shaking. Eggsy afraid, he’s so afraid his mind blocked everything out, even his own nervousness. It suppresses his hopelessness for a while so he can take deep breaths and think about what to do. 

He fumbles his phone out and calls Roxy, but she doesn’t answer. His hands still tremble. Eggsy just wants to hear a familiar voice, maybe he’d even let himself be talked out of it. He isn’t so sure after all. 

He decides to make one last call and shoves his fear away. This is dying, he tells himself while dialing the number, this is salvation. He knows it by heart by now and he feels the warm metal on his chest like an assurance.

Eggsy asks himself for a moment why he didn’t fucking brought a gun but has to jump from a building like the biggest show off ever. They would have to pick him out of the fucking water instead of just putting his body in a bag. Then Harry answers the phone, his voice mail of course, and not the costumer service.

“This is the connection of Harry Hart-”

Of course he says ‘connection’, what an old-fashioned man.

“I’m currently not available, you can leave a message after entering the password.”

Password? Eggsy raises a brow and sighs, before he murmurs “Oxfords, not Brogues” into his phone. It works, there is a loud signal and Eggsy can speak now.

“Hey Harry”, he begins with a firm voice but can already feel the tears come up burning in his eyes. A breath escapes him by thinking how pathetic this is. His last note, sent to the phone of a dead man. “I know you can’t hear this but”, he sobs violently now and is surprised by how his body shakes, “ - oh god - I’m going to jump from - oh fuck it - from the Tower Bridge in a few minutes.”

Eggsy draws a deep breath and looks up to keep himself from crying any further. It doesn’t help. 

“I hope you’re not too disappointed. Oh jeezus, what am I doing?” He sobs again and wipes his nose with an ugly sound Harry gladfully will never get to hear. “See you on the other side, bruv”, he ends it quickly before his voice breaks. 

Eggsy sits there for a while and lets the physical reaction of his body ebb off, arms wrapped around himself to calm the tremble. It’s not because he called Harry, but because he doesn’t want to jump anymore. He doesn’t want to follow Harry some place he doesn’t believe in. He’ll waste everything he’s ever been given.

His hands still tremble but he fumbles with his phone and calls 999. An Operator Assistant answers shortly after. Eggsy says he wants to be redirected to the Ambulance Service and is without another word. He’s wiping his tears away as he waits for the connection. 

“This is the Ambulance Service, what’s the Emergency?”

Eggsy tells them. Suicide attempts are considered a medical emergency, he remembers. Yes, he’ll need a car, no he doesn’t need the fire brigade to get him off the building. He has the keys, he lies, and in the meanwhile recollects his belongings: car key, watch, gin and checks his medal. 

He climbs off the tower again and stands, his hands tugged into his pockets, on the pavement beside the lanes and waits for the ambulance car which drives around the corner 8 minutes later. 

They offer him a smile and invite him in but they don’t question him any further aside from “Are you thirsty or hungry?”. 

In the emergency admission about 30 people are waiting for their doctor. Many of them wear clothes stained with blood or puke, are holding their limps with pained expressions and some just look as if they’ve got a bad headache. He begins to regret his choice to come here when imagining sitting in this hallway for hours before he gets attention. But he knows, too, that he wouldn’t have gotten home tonight in his own car, not with the gin in his pocket.

“Why where are you here?”, a nurse with a black pixie-cut asks. She looks very young, younger than Eggsy. She’s friendly, as friendly as someone can be on a night-shift.

“I climbed the Tower Bridge and enjoyed the view”, he mumbles tiredly as his eyes search for the obligatory form he has to fill. He’s been in the ER quite a few times.

She shoots him a look and waits with new found impatience for him to give an official answer.

“I attempted suicide.” 

She nods politely and hands him a form. Eggsy sits down for what can’t be more than 2 minutes and is called in a small room with a nurse and a doctor waiting for him. The doctor is a small, chubby woman in her mid-thirties, who sports a green polo-shirt under her coat. The nurse leaves the room as soon as he’s shut the door and leaves it open. Maybe that’s some kind of protocol.

“Please sit down”, the doctor waves him to the next chair and pulls out a blood-pressure-thing from somewhere. “I’m Dr. MacKayla.”

They shake hands. “Eggsy Unwin.”

“Who’s your doctor normally?”, she asked while fumbling the thingy to his arm.

He can’t tell her about Kingsman and their high-standard infirmary where they don’t even use those ancient things any more. 

“I’m not visiting the doc’ often”, he claims. 

She’s quiet while measuring his blood-pressure which turns out okay although she hands him a chocolate bar afterwards. “For Serotonin”, she smiles. Eggsy nodds and eats the thing only to please her.

“How do you feel now?”, she asks after sitting down.

“I don’t wanna kill m’self anymor”, he answers, “it’s okay now, I suppose.”

“What is ‘okay’ for you?”

Eggsy hesitates. “When I don’t feel like killin’ m’self.”

She nods. “Your medical record tells me almost nothing”, she says and throws a frown at her computer. “Are you suffering from Depression?”

Of course it doesn’t show her anything, it’s classified information. He handed the nurse his Kingsman insurance card after all.

“Don’t know.”

She blinks without understanding. “So you’re not seeing a psychiatrist, I suppose?”

“Not really”, he answers and looks away. He wants to go home now, he begins to feel annoyed but that’s just because he’s tired. 

“Then I would recommend one to you.”

“Which one?”

“Anyone.” She observes him from his Oxfords to his tie. “Money doesn’t seem to be a factor.”

He could have come in his street wear, Eggsy thinks grimly because he hates being judged by his appearance. “I’m gonna think about this. Fanks.”

He raises from his chair and extends his hand but she doesn’t. Her expression grows more and more concerned. 

“You shouldn’t go home alone now.”

Eggsy sighs and leans into the cushion of a stretcher. “I’m fine now, fanks.” He thinks about the gin in his pocket. Maybe he should give it to her, just for caution.

“Is there anyone you can call? A friend, you parents?”

The young agents shuts his eyes and draws a deep breath. The negation, a simple, firm ‘no’, can’t slip from his tongue before they both raise their heads at the sounds from the hallway.

A man growls loudly, metal - most likely medical cutlery - falls to the floor, someone is running towards the door, a nurse yells after the person rushing through the hallway. Eggsy hears ragged breathing, before the person pushes through the doorway - a lean shadow - and looks around agitated.

A nurse follows him on the foot and makes eye contact with Dr. Mackayla. “A visitor for Mr. Unwin, Doctor”, she informs while eyeing the man angrily.

“You called?”, asks Harry fucking Hart with worry written all over his face.


	3. Oh what a night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it comes...  
> Don't cry.

For the first time in months, Eggsy’s mind is quiet, almost peaceful. At the same time he can’t breathe, he gasps for air but it doesn’t find the way to his lungs. It feels like he had imagined himself drowning in the black sewage of River Themse. It is violent. It breaks him all over again.

Eggsy keeps his facade up, keeps his back straight and his expression blank. He doesn’t know how, but he manages.

A nod to Dr. MacKayla is enough of politeness today, Eggsy decides, shoving himself past this nightmare of a man and avoids to look at him. His feet are fast on the bright, sterile smelling hallway, the children still cry in the ER, and he feels as if someone clenched a giant fist around his upper body. Eggsy can breathe freely again when he reaches the public entrance of the hospital and sucks in the cold night air.

Harry, like a shadow, follows him closely without a word. Eggsy’s mind is still compensating, but he manages to ask where Harry parked his car. His voice is absent but calm and so is Harry’s when he answers. 

They get into the black Range Rover but Harry doesn’t start the engine. Eggsy feels the older man’s eyes burning into his skin but he can’t think of something to say. He can’t look at him, though his presence is filling the small room, caging him into his seat. 

Eggsy’s not even sure if this is real, maybe he will make up in his own piss in the kitchen in a few seconds and find this has all been a dream. 

So Eggsy just sits there and stares into the dark of the parking lot. Until Harry starts the engine and asks quietly: “My house?”

Eggsy closes his eyes. Everything around him is falling to ashes. 

Harry turns the car and gets them on the street again. He doesn’t say a word and concentrates on the traffic, which gives Eggsy the cruel possibility to finally observe his driver carefully from the corner of his eye. He wears a suit, what else? Dark and shady, with a black tie as if he just arrived from a funeral. Eggsy doesn’t dare to look into Harry’s face but concentrates on his hand which lie steady on the wheel and embrace the leather. Harry’s whole body from his leg to his shoulders moves when he brakes, as if he wasn’t made of flexible flesh but from one piece of wood. He looks tense and it makes Eggsy even more uncomfortable.

Suddenly, the mental overload of the evening is too much and Eggsy can’t hold it back anymore. Violent sobs claim his mouth and shake every bone of his. He doesn’t want to cry but what the fuck is this situation? Where the fuck did Harry come from now? Eggsy tries to hold it back with a hand pressed to the mouth and punched the dashboard with the other hand out of frustration.

“Eggsy..”, Harry utters. He sounds surprised and so so worried. A second later he turns the wheel to park on the pavement. Eggsy flees outside on the wet grass, where he draws quick breathes and tries to prevent himself from collapsing. He screams, it’s an ugly sound, croaked and wet and uncontrolled. The hands on his mouth tremble to much to keep it caged it his chest.

He hears the door of the car shut and then Harry’s there, all around him. The embrace isn’t gentle, it just enough pressure to keep Eggsy from shaking and sobbing so freely. 

“Oh, my boy”, Harry murmurs and Eggsy feels a pair of lips pressed to his temple, just for a moment. He puts his arms around the older man an tucks him closer at the waist. The sensation calms him down immediately because this can’t be a dream, not even a nightmare, it feels to real. There’s flesh and muscle and bone under this fabric, and life.

“Shhh”, Harry whispers into his hair and holds him even tighter. He cradles them both, until Eggsy’s shaking breaths stops and he has composed himself again. It’s just a panic attack, Eggsy tells himself and clenches his fists into Harry suit to hold himself up. They stand there for a while while the traffic on the street 5 metres from them carries on and the lights of the cars and buses flash over their bodies. 

Eggsy waits until only the smell of Harry’s cologne burns in his eyes.

“You checked your voicemail?”,he finally manages to ask. 

“Fortunately, I did.” Harry shifts his head and breaths in the smell of the younger man’s hair. “Let’s go home and talk. Or sleep. Whatever you want”, he suggest and sounds almost as helpless as Eggsy himself. He’s afraid, Eggsy thinks.

He nods to the suggestion and they get back into the car. 15 minutes later they’re in the driveway and Eggsy fumbles the key out of his pocket. He has to retrieve the gin in order to get them, which Harry gently takes away from him before he squeezes the younger man’s hand gently instead.

The hallway is dark but Eggsy doesn’t bother and kicks away his shoes and puts his wrinkled suit jacket on the hook. When Harry held him, he had felt the electricity back on his skin, but now his body is all numb again. He really is tired to the bones, he thinks as he pulls his shirt from his trousers and lets it hang loosely around his waist.

“’m gonna’ to take a shower”, he announces and turns around to Harry who still stands in front of the now closed door and takes a look around his house. He lived here after all and Eggsy hasn’t changed a thing, in fact he hasn’t even refilled the tea yet. 

“Are ya gonna stay here tonight?”, he asks. Harry swallows. “Your bed’s still free, ya know?” The invitation comes freely from his lips, although he realizes he should not be the one to make it, because this is - with Harry on his feet and living again - his house.

“Appreciated”, Harry answers and smiles a a small, polite smile of discomfort. Eggsy goes upstairs and leaves his former mentor to himself so he can make himself home again or whatever. 

The pills are still in the cupboard in the bath, enough of it it seems. Eggsy takes a hot shower and begins to put away some of his stuff to make place for Harry’s. Also it got quite messy in here lately and he doesn’t want Harry to see that. What will he think when he sees that Eggsy has kept all his old stuff and never used it? The razor for example, or the hair gel. There’s an old bottle on shampoo standing in the shower, untouched.

When he gets out of the loo, the door to the master’s bedroom is open and he hears a silent sigh from it. Eggsy goes straight to the guest room and dresses for the night. There’s a gentle knock on the door, when he’s just finished.

“Com’ in.”

Harry also has stripped of his suit jacket. His sight in pressed shirt and tie is so familiar, Eggsy feels his throat narrowing all over again. He sits down on his bed and wiped his hand across his face, while Harry leans into the door frame and keeps a courteous distance between them.

When Eggsy looks up, Harry’s eyes are laying on him, radiating fondness and warmth. Eggsy knows he should be happy to see him, he should burst with euphoria, but he doesn’t. He’s just tired and overwhelmed by it all. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow, all right?” 

Eggsy nods and looks down to the floor. He sees Harry pushing himself to stand and walk towards him from the corner of his eyes and then feels the second weight pushing down on the mattress next to him.

“Look at me, Eggsy. Please.”

The young man does look up and meets Harry’s brown eyes. Harry puts his hand on his upper arm and squeezes gently and Eggsy can’t but leans into the touch he wished for all those lonely nights. It seems to surprise Harry, but it brings a glimmer of something to his eyes. Happiness maybe, but he doesn’t look happy at all, understandably.

“There are still pills in the bathroom cupboard”, Eggsy confesses and watches Harry’s face tense for a moment, before he nods with a rational expression. “I left some at HQ, too.”

“Then we’re going to retrieve them tomorrow, I suggest.”

There are questions burning in Eggsy’s mind but it’s not the time, he’s just too worn out. He can’t bring his mind to order now, not after this night. Does Merlin now, though? He’ll ask him later. The only thing that is important right now is the warmth of Harry’s hand on his arm and how he feels himself magnetically pulled to the older man’s chest. 

“Where’s your gun?”

Eggsy snorts, feeling amused by this fate he lives with now. He had to try and kill himself to make Harry come back, yeah?

“Have ya checked your house? It’s full of guns, you’ve been a thumb-fucking paranoid”, he replies.

Harry chuckles warmly. “Just being cautious. How are you feeling now?”

“Pretty fucked up.” 

“Then have a night full of sleep. I’m in my room if you need anything”, he says, empathizing ‘anything’ more than enough.

His hand comes up to lie on his shoulder and for a moment Eggsy fears it will cup his cheek or ruffle his hair because then he’s gonna loose his shit completely. But Harry just runs a thumb along the fabric and then leaves with a whispered “Good night”. 

Eggsy rams his head into the pillow and listens to the sounds of the house like he always does before sleeping. He hears the creaking of the floor boards and the quiet rattling from the bathroom next door now and somehow feels less alone. 

\--

It’s still reality when he wakes up the next morning, finds the pills removed from the cupboard when he enters the bathroom and finds Harry fucking Hart frying eggs and bacon while wearing his apron downstairs. 

“Where’s JB?”, he asks when settling down next to Eggsy on the table he set up.

“With Merlin. He’s keepin’ an eye on ‘im lately.”

Harry hums understandingly. They eat in silence and Eggsy feels so very much reminded of the morning of their 24-hours-with-your-mentor-day, when Harry taught him how to eat properly and the manners and shit. He can’t remember most of it, he was too stunned by Harry at the time.

“I’m sorry for wot I said”, Eggsy burst out when they have cleaned the table and Harry puts two hot mugs of coffee on it again. Eggsy had told Harry many times when he visited the grave, but he’d never thought he could ever apologize himself in person. Harry doesn’t seem to understand immediately so Eggsy adds: “On the day ya left for Kentucky, I’m sorry for that.”

“Oh”, Harry whispers and purses his lips while looking down on his laps. “I thought it was my task to apologize.” He gleans up with a sad smile. “For treating you so badly.”

“I wouldn’t ‘ave called ya a freak if... Well if I ‘ad known ya weren’t comin’ back. The part with my dad wasn’t fair either.”

Harry looks at him solemnly and observes Eggsy’s expression with care. 

“You couldn’t have known”, he finally said with a sigh and puts his mug down on the table, while Eggsy chews nervously on his lower lip. He still doesn’t know how to feel about all this. Well, Harry is obviously alive and kicking but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. Eggsy is afraid of the pain he felt when he saw the video-broadcast on Harry’s laptop. His heart still pounds violently by the pure thought of it and he’s so irritated because being in Harry’s presence is not the same anymore. It feels different, like a bad copy of what they had before V-Day. Harry can be all warm and gentlemanly, but he can’t close the gap between then after everything that happened last night and the past few months.

“How are we going to deal with this mess?”, Harry asks, more to himself than his Eggsy though and doesn't further pick on the topic. “With me being back in London and so many questions unanswered and you having tried to jump off Tower Bridge, it’s a real mayhem.”

His words are blunt, they sound so bold and simple and he speaks with clarity Eggsy can’t share with him. His mind hurts.

“Sounds as if this wasn’t a great deal for ya.”

“Maybe I just don’t know another way to cope than being rational about this”, Harry replies sharply and realizes too late how harsh he sounds. “I’m so very worried about you, my boy”, he adds more softly but again: it doesn’t alter anything. 

Why didn’t he come back earlier then?, Eggsy asks himself bitterly and drinks the rest of his coffee which is also bitter. I’m not bitter, he thinks bitterly with an bitterly expression.

“What happened after the massacre at the church? After Valentine shot you.”

Harry meets his eyes and clears his throat before he speaks. “He missed the vital parts of my head when he tried to blast a bullet through it. And he never checked the body, so I woke up after some hours on the pavement.”

“His ‘ands shook like a lil’ boy’s, no wonder”, the younger man snorts. Acting like a chav can get him some emotional distance for now, and he need it, if he wants to last this conversation.

“How do you know?” Harry asks, his voice terrified. Shit, Eggsy thinks, he has no idea. “Did Merlin show you the feed?”

“I hacked your laptop”, Eggsy swallows and gets up to make some more coffee and to make sure his legs still work because they feel like cold pudding now. “And saw it all.”

“I’m very sorry that you had-”

“What ‘appened after ya woke up?”, Eggsy interrupts him. He doesn’t want to talk about this bloody video more than necessary. 

“I...err... had lost orientation and forgotten why I was in Kentucky after all”, Harry picks up again. “The Ambulance picked me up and drove me to the nearest hospital where I was bandaged up. You probably also were a spectator of the fight in the church, so I don’t have to tell you how urgent that was.”

Harry looks pale, his hands clenching at each other. His hasn’t got his his signet ring on, Eggsy realizes when glancing over his shoulder.

“The wounds caused by this massacre were more severe. The bullet from Valentine only ripped the skin, though, and - as i said - hit nothing important. I merely had a concussion from the impact and lost blood.”

Eggsy tries to throw a decent look at Harry’s left temple, but the scar is well hidden under the brown hair. He remembers how he felt watching the fight, how Harry killed all those people who - to his defense - were equally bloodthirsty. And he imagines how Harry must remember it every time he looks into a mirror.

“And then?”

“Valentine must have set the next wave loose. I still haven’t recollected all the memory, all I remember is that I woke up again the hospital - now on the floor and with dozens of dead bodies around me”, Harry continues dryly.

Eggsy purses his lips and returns to the dining table with a dull feeling in his stomach. He is still eager to find out what had taken Harry so long to get his arse back to London, but now he begins to feel sorry for not taking notice of what the older man had been through. 

“What ‘appened then?”, he asks more patiently. 

“Well, while you dispatched Valentine to wherever he is now, I couldn’t remember my name or where I was born or the face of my mother. It all came back, bit to bit.”

“When did ya remember Kingsman?”

“A week ago.”

“Fuck.” Eggsy almost chokes on his coffee. “Where ‘ave ya been all the time?”

“I worked as a tailor, actually. You didn’t know I had this apprenticeship before I entered Kingsman, did you?” There’s a smug smile on Harry’s face. “I worked in a Japanese shop, because for some reason”, he raises a brow over his coffee, “I spoke fucking Japanese when I woke up without memory.”

Eggsy presses a small smile and considers his next question carefully, although he can already feel the weight of doubt and uncertainty vanishing from his shoulders. There is a fucking explanation for everything, it seems.

“I quit my job when I remembered - well, my real job, and came back to England two days ago. I’m staying at a hotel and Merlin should by now be aware that I - or at least someone - uses the Kingsman Credit Card again. I haven’t made contact with any agents yet”, Harry admits. “To be honest I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to come back.” He gave Eggsy a sad smile. “Until now.”

“When did ya remember me?”

Harry’s face goes blank for a second before he answers. Eggsy can see the shame he feels more distinctly than anything else.

Harry doesn’t answer, but Eggsy can think for himself. 

Eggsy shuts his eyes and sinks into his chair. “Fuck”, he whispers. “Don’t tell me me fucking suicide note was the trigger.”

“This doesn’t mean anything, Eggsy”, Harry tries to calm him down in expectation of another wave of desperate rage, but Eggsy is calm. He opens his eyes and Harry nearly breaks from the sadness in them. 

“I understand, ‘arry. I - We didn’t know each other for long, I-I wasn’t part of ya life or anythin’. Of course - I understand.” He wipes his eyes hastily and bites his tongue. 

“Eggsy, I still don’t remember the face of my mother. I all comes back in bits, there is no chronology or hierarchy.” Harry reaches over the table and tucks Eggsy’s fist into his long fingers. “It doesn’t mean your not important to me, because you very much are.”

Eggsy nods and takes a deep breath. He takes an effort to be rational again.

“So Merlin doesn’t know yet?”

“He probably assumes that something is up.” Harry clenches his jaw and retreats to his own seat. “I’m going to show up at the shop today.”

“I’m comin’ with ya, just gotta fetch sum things.” The obligatory vacation after the last night is beyond debate at this time. Eggsy raises, sets his cup on the counter and makes his way upstairs to his room, although he doesn’t even make it to the door before Harry calls him back.

“Eggsy”, he says with an insecure voice, “you can forgive me for not remembering you, can you?”

Eggsy doesn’t turn around so Harry can’t see his face while he considers an answer that won’t hurt the older man but also is honest. Harry’s lived all the time. He’s lived while Eggsy was t his funeral and the carousel began and he wept himself into sleep.

“I would have needed you”, he replies, which is the truth and still contains the undertone of nothing being the same anymore, “but I’m not angry.” As if he could be angry. Anger demands energy Eggsy doesn’t have. Frustration with life is far more easier.

Besides there is nothing to forgive, it wasn’t the fault of either of them. It was fucking Valentine and then fucking coincidence or faith or whoever is in charge that separated them even longer. 

He doesn’t say he’s glad for Harry’s return either because he’s not sure that’s the truth. Eggsy’s not sure this won’t drive him mad even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, my html skills totally suck, so it's just plain text :)


	4. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry & Eggsy fetch some things from HQ, talk to Merlin and negotiate about their further plans.

The shop is empty when they enter it in the early afternoon. Eggsy had checked his phone for some emergency message from Merlin or a new snap chat from Roxy but neither of them tried to contact him. Harry walks straight into fitting room one and waits for Eggsy to follow him before he activates the lift. 

They remain silent in the capsule and part when arriving at HQ so Eggsy can fetch the things from his locker and Harry can have a talk with Merlin about him coming back or whatever. He’ll find out soon enough what Harry’s plans are, Eggsy thinks. 

He gets his private phone and the pills, which he promptly flushes down the next toilet. The thought of suicide makes him ill now, but he’s not that he wont fall back into that state of desperation. It’s been, after all, just one day.

Percival enters the rooms, nods to him, strips down naked in front of Eggsy and then accesses a shower cabin while whistling “Break Free” by Queen. Nothing changed, Eggsy thinks, it’s all in my head. 

Back in the hallway he meets other agents. Eggsy can’t but wonder how they would look at him if they knew, that only 12 hours ago he was trying to jump of that bridge. They don’t even know about Harry’s return yet. Eggsy decides they better remain unknowing, at least of the suicide-incident.

Harry wanted to meet Merlin and probably already gave him the shock of his life, so Eggsy heads to Merlin’s tech-cave. He meets Amelia on his way their and wants to ask her how she’s doing, but the words get stuck in his throat when he sees her horrified expression. “Galahad’s back”, she murmurs under her breath and shakes her head disbelievingly. A moment later they can hear the shouting from the office and Amelia picks up speed.

Eggsy hurries his steps and turns around the corner to find the door to Merlin’s office standing ajar. Harry shouting at his friend, his voice louder and more aggressive than the younger agent ever imagined, for Harry mostly was in perfect control of his temper. 

Eggsy presses to the wall next to the door and listens.

“...HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW?!”

“Harry, calm down, please”, answers Merlin’s voice, surprised and rough.

“No, I’m not any near calming down. He wanted to fucking kill himself! He’s barely 25, how could you miss this?”

Eggsy tenses all over. He hears Merlin sigh and knows that he should probably interrupt the two, because nothing of this is Merlin’s fault. The older man probably is in shock right now, and Eggsy doesn’t know ff he can handle it. Explaining it to him, being asked those questions he can’t answer himself. So he just keeps standing and listening to the two men, anxiety chewing on his heart.

“Would you have noticed? Would you have noticed if he were dead by now?”, Harry shouts in despair, his voice croaky all of the sudden. 

There’s a deadening silence. The embarrassment translates to ‘no’. Eggsy hears a dull sound, and supposes that Harry likely has kicked down a chair or a flat screen.

“I’ve counted on you, Merlin. I trusted you to have an eye on him while I couldn’t and you failed so horrendously. How could you let him work? How could he still be on field duty?”

“Harry, I tried to talk to him, but - you know this wasn’t easy for any of us. We’re all under great pressure, some take it well, some do not. He didn’t want any help and I can’t spend my time in talking him over”, Merlin replies in a strained voice and Eggsy can hear the anger, which is justified by all means. His agent has fucked up, the second time by now (counting the failed dog-test, too). “He’s responsible for himself.”

“Yes, and you’re responsible for you agents, Merlin”, Harry murmurs angrily. “I can’t believe you let this happen.”

“Me too, but you can’t even let me have some time to think about it, can you? No, I have to take a stand immediately!” 

Now Merlin is shouting and there’s more to his voice than the frustration about Harry’s accusations. “I’m shocked, too, Harry.You both scare the shit out of me!”

Eggsy decides to interrupt now before both loose control over their overcharged emotions and smash the other one’s head into the next wall. He hopes they’ve had their basic talk about what happened to Harry beforehand, because he just wants to go now. 

“Lovely chat, mates. Ya talked it all off your chest na?”, he asks, opening the door.

Merlin looks at him, like someone who realizes he let the stove on halfway out of the city. 

“You should have told me”, he says with a rough voice. “You could have just called, Eggsy.”

“Na, ya very busy”, Eggsy shakes his head. “It’s okay”, he shrugs. 

“It’s not”, both Merlin and Harry snap. The latter rest his hands on his hips while Merlin comes straight forward and tucks Eggsy in a tight embrace. “How the fuck you think this is okay? I was gonna fish your body out of bloody river Thames if you hadn’t changed your mind last minute. Stupid boy.” 

Merlin’s body is hot from his rage, but his eyes lie cold on him, when they part again. It’s just the look Eggsy expected from everyone, because he had seen in on Harry: knowing, worried, afraid. 

Eggsy stumbles with stupid words until he can form an answer. As always, it’s easier to distance himself from what happened. Shrug it off, say it’s all fine. No more questions. 

“I’m still livin’. I think that’s pretty okay for a start.” 

Merlin huffs and let’s him go. He seems to be wanting to spit out another comment but bites his tongue and whispers: “Harry’s looking after you now, ye?”, instead.

“We’re having a inheritance fight over the house. It’s gonna be like ‘War of the Roses’”, Eggsy jokes but Merlin just shoots Harry a less angry, more asking look. Harry nods and his eyes flicker back to Eggsy. The young man feels like - despite their fight - the two have a secret language of shrugging and cold glares to communicate with each other without him knowing. 

Merlin turns around again. “Take all the time you need, I’ll sort the official part out, and you”, he points his index finger at the young agent, “work at it from home. I want reports and if I don’t get them, I’m coming around get them in person.” Merlin pinches the bridge of his nose and retreats further into his tech-cave. “And I’m making you an appointment with Dr. Fisher.”

Eggsy knows that this was the Kingsman psychiatrist. It is an open secret, that most agents visit her on a regular base. He just goes with it, too tired to object.

“What are ya gonna tell the others?”, he asks instead.

“The truth, preferably.”

Eggsy nods again. He wished it wasn’t a necessity but if his boss thinks so, it might be just right. What does he know after all? “Just don’t make them worry too much”, he suggest, feeling more sad about this whole mess with every minute passing.

“I fear it’s too late for that”, Harry sighs and makes his way to Eggsy. He puts a hands firm and warm on the younger man’s arm and squeezes tightly. “Have you got all your things?”

“Yeah, we can go. Bye, Merlin.”

“Take care, Eggsy”, Merlin murmurs after them and Eggsy can hear him kick down another chair a second after Harry closes the door.

\--

 

Harry drives them to an Indian restaurant and they settle in a quiet corner to talk and have a cup of tea and some dessert because neither of them feels like eating too much at the moment.

“So what did ya both settle for before ya started to loose it?”

Harry shoots him a look and make the silent ts-noise. He is a perfectionist regarding sounds that are not really words and deliver a more meaningful message. Like guttural hums and little hisses. “Regarding my return to the Kingsman ranks?”

“Yeah.”

The older agent settles back in his chair and plays with the cufflinks on his left sleeve.

“We didn’t agree on that matter, either”, he says and before Eggsy can interrupt him he adds, “- you see, thinks have changed for me, too.”

Eggsy raises a brow and crosses his arms on his chest. “You seem fine to me, still lookin’ fit.” 

The head tilt and those sad eyes of Harry’s make Eggsy nervous. He wants to test Harry and wants Harry to give him more data about what was up with him. He already is sure his former mentor isn’t as fine as he wants to be, but he can only assume to which degree. Harry slaughtered at least two dozens of people in this church and god knows how many more in the hospital, of course he wasn’t fine. But how much was he willing to admit, how hurt was he really? 

Harry doesn’t say a word, he just stares at his sleeve more intensely, which makes Eggsy uncomfortable quickly. 

“I’m sorry, ya don’t ‘ave ta explain if -”

“You don’t need to be”, Harry says calmly and brings a small smile to his face, looking up to Eggsy again. “Merlin thought I would go straight back to field duty, which I definitely won’t.”

“Settle down, yeah?”, Eggsy grins, but Harry doesn’t smile anymore to comfort him.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Eggsy. Kentucky was...”, he sighs and rubs his brow with his thumb, “traumatic.” 

That’s it, he doesn’t add more and the air between them is again too thin to asks questions. 

“Okay”, Eggsy breathes eventually and looks down at the table. We’re both fucked up, he thinks, how fucking beautiful. 

So they both got to figure things out for themselves. Harry obviously has to cope with his memories and being back and everything changed and shit and Eggsy has to avoid the carousel and work on his insecurities with Harry, because although he can behave pretty naturally now around his former mentor, his mind still bothers him with flashbacks and anxiety more often than he likes. 

Maybe he really romanticized Harry too much in his loneliness. When he thinks back Harry wasn’t in fact a very warm person or anything. Yes, he showed his affection for Eggsy from time to time and his charm was great just as great back then as it was now, but Eggsy also remembers Harry’s high expectations. His bitter disappointment. His cold professionalism. 

Eggsy warmly remembers their drinks at Harry’s house, but how often was this the case? Four or five times plus the one night they’d gone out with Roxy? 

Eggsy looks at the man and can think of nothing but that he maybe altogether had a biased image of Harry. Yeah, he definitely has to figure out what they both are now.

“You look torn between calling me a freak again or curling up in my lap like a cat”, Harry chuckles and proves his mind-reading qualities like the fucking show-off he his. At least that didn’t change.

“It’s difficult for me.”

“I know”, Harry says understandingly and with the known guttural hum. “I’m still quite shocked myself.”

“’cause I wanted to jump off that bridge?”

Harry sets down the cup of tea he just started to raise and stares at the wall. 

“I know I can’t make you promise me”, he tells Eggsy in a deep, serious voice that makes the young man tense all up, “but please never do this again. I thought I was too late for a moment - before I tracked your phone down and saw that you were at the hospital.”

He focuses on Eggsy and there’s a certain glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes. “Whatever is going on, talk to me or Merlin or your Mum, but don’t do this to anyone of us.”

Eggsy nods. “Ya know those things ain’t about who gets ‘urt or not”, he mumbles. 

“Yeah, I know. But you get the message, don’t you? Your important to us, and we can’t loose you.”

Eggsy looks up again from the table were his eyes had shifted in an attempt to avoid Harry’s glare. I lost you, he thinks bitterly. Still, he manages to nod and answer. “I’ll try, ‘arry. It wos the first time, okay? I didn’t know what else to do. I was so desperate and lonely and it all suck’d so much.”

He feels Harry’s fond eyes on his face an for a moment really wants to curl up next to him and try to blank it all out.

“How are we going to handle this?”

Harry had asked him that in the morning the first time, but Eggsy’s still a little bit stunned. Maybe they really stuck together now.

“Still we?”, Eggsy asks, while wiping his nose.

“Yeah, of course.”

Eggsy watches the older man suspiciously. Just because Harry picked him up from the ER doesn’t mean he has to look after him the rest of the way. But apparently he plans to, and Eggsy again doesn’t know what to make out of that.

“Go to the doc, get some meds, I don’t know?”, he finally supposes and Harry nods a little. 

“Sounds good. Are you going to tell your mother?”

“She would break, ‘Arry.”

“Probably.”

Silence, before Eggsy wipes his nose again and says the thought he still can’t ban from his mind out loud:

“So ya gonna stay with me.” 

The thought of living with Harry is unfamiliar, but at the same time exciting. Eggsy’s not sure of his feelings towards the Harry at all, but staying with him sounds a lot like the steadiness and stability and support he needs at the moment, also obviously many stories and occasional drinking nights and warm touches. Maybe he could even make Harry smile some times. What a thing to look forward to.

“Only if that’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything”, Harry replies and hesitates from his next sentence, “I would like to, very much. You don’t seem fine, my boy, and besides that I don’t like staying at hotels. The mini-bars are a nightmare.”

They chuckle and glimpse at each other, searching for affirmation.

“So we’re sticking this out together.”, Eggsy confirms for himself, more optimistically after they settled down again. 

“Yes. I think that would be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the encouraging responses! I'm shocked how well it's being received.  
> I have to go and write some shitty essay for school now, let me now what you think  
> Much luv


	5. Shared Flats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, after all the pain something more light-hearted for a change. And - of course some - complications. Ya can't really go without them, can ya?  
> Enjoy!

Living with Harry is a mess, Eggsy decides forty minutes later while he strolls along the aisles of Tesco for their ‘residential community’ and has lost Harry - again. Off he went, after Eggsy had told him he’ll give carte blanche at what food to buy since Harry would be the one to cook. 

Eggsy silently puts some beer in the cart and decides to just wait for the goddamn man to find him. His phone vibrates in his pocket and he fumbles it out to read a text message from Roxy.

“Can you call me tonight? Love ya, Rox.” 

Eggsy smiles sadly and tucks it back. So Merlin made the announcement now and suddenly everyone cares. Am I bitter again?, he asks himself.

Harry returns a minute later from the gourmet food section with loads of different cartons stacked up on his arms and lets them fall into the cart with a sigh. 

“You got the basic of the food pyramid, I see”, he comments on the six-pack. 

“Got to have something to do while you work in the kitchen”, Eggsy replies. “Let’s get some crush ice.”

They have a disagreement on what ice cream to buy, but settle on fucking blueberry and liquorice in the end, though Eggsy doesn’t believe Harry any of his swooning. He’s very adorable though when talking about ice cream, his eyes suddenly going bright and excited. 

Fucking wanker. 

Harry’s actually pretty sweet when they’re not talking serious shit. He jokes with the girl at the meat counter and swaggers next to the cart with a finger on its rim. Eggsy always hated when his mum did this, as if she needed to control the fucking cart while he was driving it, but with Harry it feels more relaxed.

Harry's barely back for 24 hours and already throwing around with his usual charme.

It’s just a freaking tour through Tesco and he hasn’t felt that good in ages. Chatting about nonsense is so easy when you can blank out work and your own poor health for some time. 

Harry pays - of course, but Eggsy at least tried - and makes Eggsy bring the cart back to its shed while waiting in the Land Rover and eating lemon drops. His favorite. They make Eggsy’s face hurt and tense, but Harry doesn’t move a single muscle. 

\--

“Domestic life”, Harry sighs ironically after closing the fridge back at home, and he can barely duck before the pineapple misses his head and smashes against the freezer. “What was that for?!”

“For sounding like ya retired and settled down na.”

Harry puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head. He’s in the best of moods since he had to do a terrifying U-Turn on the road home, because Eggsy forgot the tank cap at the petrol station. Eggsy almost died, but apparently Harry lives for this kind of shit.

“You think I sound overly content with the boredom age brings with it?”

“Yeah, basically.”

Harry makes an ironically disagreeing sound and vanishes to his study to get some work done, whatever work he and Merlin agreed on. Maybe he’s just having a drink. 

Eggsy uses the time to sit down a the counter and call Roxy. The dial tone is anticipating until she finally accepts the call and begins screaming into his ear.

“O my god, Eggsy, are you okay?”

“Yeah, pretty good”, he says in a low voice. He hasn’t felt real, hot shame for his actions the night before until now. Because Roxy’s his best friend and they have this unspoken contract of helping each other out in hard times, but Eggsy didn’t talk to her and scared her away when she searched for contact. The situation is pretty much fucked up but she doesn’t sound too angry.

“Oh, fuck, where are you?”

“I’m with ‘Arry.”

“Yeah, I heard of that, too. He showed up out of the fucking nowhere, is that right?”

“What exactly did Merlin tell ya?”

Roxy has calmed her breathing and speaks more in a husky tone now. “That Galahad has returned to work from fucking after he survived and regained his memory or something, I didn’t really listen after he told me what you...Eggsy, what’s gone wrong yesterday?”, she changes the subject.

“The day sucked, Roxy. I felt like shit.”

“That’s not a reason to kill yourself.”

“It’s going on for a while naw, actually. And I was feelin’ extra hopeless yesterday - oh shit, Roxy, t’was an stupid idea, but I couldn’t ‘elp”, he wails. No he really feels like shit again. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Okay, Eggsy”, she breathes. “Can we talk about this vis a vis?”

“If ya would like to...”

“Yeah, that would be good.” She seems becalmed now and he’s really glad to hear her voice, even if it’s slightly estranged over the phone.

“How’s it with Harry so far? You must have had an heart attack.”

“Hart attack, yeah. He’s upstairs now.”

“That ain’t an answer.”

“I know”, he replies a little egdy. “It’s difficult with him, I dunno what to...ya know...”

“Feel?”, she tries.

“Sort of.”

“I see.”

Eggsy shakes his head furiously. “Na, ya don’t. Is’ more complicated.”

She laughs about how foolish he sounds and says a little “Ohhhh Eggsy” that makes him smile.

“Ya gonna save the world while I deal wif the guvnor, yeah?”, he asks.

“And ya’self”, she imitates him and says goodbye but not without promising to come around tomorrow.

When he hooks up, Harry comes downstairs and shushes him with “Let the guvnor be in charge, now”, out of the kitchen, because the sneeky bastard surely heard that last sentence. But no more than that, Eggsy hopes.


	6. Bend relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxy comes over to meets with Eggsy and when coming back from their stroll, there are more visitors in the house than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gap filler, of some sorts. Enjoy the theory :)

“’Arry? We’re back”, he calls into the hallway and closes the door behind Roxy. They’re wet to the bones because they decided to take a walk to the neighborhood and they had a lot to talk about. They lost count of time and it began to pour like the sky just opened up, the two of them still being two miles away from Harry’s house.

Getting out was a good idea, Eggsy thinks to himself, feeling refreshed and a little adventurous due to their run back to the house. A look in the hallway mirror shows him their flushed cheeks from the cold and the wet hair glued to their foreheads.

“You look like your pug”, Roxy utters while kicking off her shoes and getting out of the former jacket that is now a drenched cloth of fabric. 

“The nice Bathroom’s upstairs, if ya wanna dry yaself up”, he tells her because she’s never been to Harry’s house before. 

The nods and climbs the stairs without hesitation. The young agent casts a glance into the dining room and the living room, but Harry is nowhere to be found, meaning he probably sits in his study. He prepares two drinks in the kitchen and returns to the hallway with them to wait for Roxy and lead them to the living room.

“Eggsy”, Roxy whispers from the top of the staircase. “You got to see this.”

“What’s there?”, he asks but climbs the steps already, taking from her seriously amused tone that there is really something worth seeing. She can barely hold back a giggle when he reaches the top and find her glancing through the crack in the door to Harry’s study. 

The waves at him to hurry up and he naturally looks over her shoulder.

The view is fascinating. 

Eggsy can see Harry, sitting low in his chair, hands folded on his tummy and head in a weird angle on his chest. He snores a little due to the position which is absolutely adorable, but nothing in comparison to the second person in the room. 

Merlin is with Eggsy’s flatmate, resting on a similar chair five feet right from his friend, with JB - who he must have brought with him - on his lap and his whole body oddly vibrating. It takes Eggsy a moment and a good listen to see how this is not some sort of epileptic attack but a fucking massaging chair he’d never noticed before. He’d noticed the chair, sat in it multiple times, but a switch ever occured to him.

He snorts and Roxy hits him premonitory while trying to suppress any form of laughter herself. There is a soft vibration noise from the room.

Eggsy raises to his toes to get a better look and notices the half-empty bottle of scotch on the desk, next to two entirely empty drinking glasses. 

“How long have we been away? Two hours?”, Roxy whispers, shaking her head.

“Dunno, maybe Merlin hid in a closet waitin’ for the right moment so they both could get pissed without us knowing.” 

They close the door quietly and go downstairs where they can giggle, finally. 

“Bugger never told me he ‘ad a fuckin’ massaging chair”, Eggsy complains and settles down in similar comfortable chair. “I’d be sleepin’ in it since foreva.”

“That’s probably why”, Roxy adds, watching him over her glass. She hesitates, but speaks her mind. “Harry’s looking good, don’t you think?”

“He said he doesn’t feel fine, though.”

“Enough to be worried?”

“I thought ev’ryone’s occupied worryin’ ‘bout me.”

“I’m worried about Percy and Merlin, too”, she confesses. “You see how Merlin fell asleep in a fucking study, he’s overworked.”

“They’re both lazy wankers, ya know that”, Eggsy jokes, but Roxy still seems far too serious. He tries more calmingly: “They’re both grown ups, Roxy. They know their limits.”

She raises her eyebrows, not believing him a word, but changes the topic.

“Same question again: How is it between you and Harry?”

Roxy’s rational about everything. She listened to him earlier about his problems or rather what seem to be problems, and he could see she was scared for a moment like everyone was when he told them about that night, but Roxy had an entirely different way of coping. She sucked back emotions, emotions only got into her way of solving this shit out. He loved it.

Still, she asks questions with sharp precision. How’s it between Harry and him?

Eggsy looks down into his lap and reevaluates the situation. It’s certainly harmonic, no fights - not that he had expected them but who knows - and no further emotional breakdowns. 

“We ‘ad our talk, that’s it for naw. I told ya.”

Roxy doesn’t bother to look at him any less suspiciously. “You were madly in love with him, as I recall.”

“Well, I’m not sure of tis anymor’.”

“I don’t understand”, she says with a frown growing on her forehead. “You’re were down because of him for months, Eggsy! You grieved like no other.”

Eggsy shakes his head. “T’was a delusion, Rox. To keep me alive, I romanticized everything about him and...he’s not this guy. Probably never was. T’was all inside my head.”

“Where else should it be?”

Eggsy shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s all different now, ya see? We both changed, he’s not ma mentor anymore, there’s no expectations.”

“Well that ain’t a bad thing, is it?”

“T’s just so confusing. I dunno how to behave most of the time and ...we’re different people now, yeah?”

Roxy looks at him sternly and then shakes her head. “You’ve become so insecure the last months-”

The creaking stairs and soft toddle of little paws interrupt them and both turn their head to the open door leading to the hallway. Harry appears in it’s frame with half a smile on his face, closely followed by Merlin, who greets them both with a nod.

“Good to see you, Lancelot”, Harry says warmly and let’s himself get tucked into a tight embrace by her. Not so rational, now. 

“Good to have you back”, she replies and Eggsy watches her eyes flicker to the scar at Harry’s temple. 

“Ya two patched up again?”, Eggsy asks Merlin, who’s sitting down next to him on the couch. 

“Well, Harry here made a promising offer containing scotch and half an hour in his chair, how could I say no?”, Merlin smiles a little. He still looks tired but also relieved and calm. Eggsy can only imagine what it’s like to have your best friend come back from the death and first thing he does is yell at you for your poor performance.

Harry settles down next to Lancelot and leans back in the pillows, looking entirely content. So is Eggsy, having his dearest friends around him again all at once and his pug, finally, drooling all over his socks again.

“Hey there”, he whispers and leans down to crawl the soft spot between the sleepy dog’s ears. “Merlin’s been good to ya?”

“He ate an uncountable amount of microchips, I’ll be able to track him down even if he flies to fucking mars”, Merlin grunts.

“A very odd illustration”, Harry replies. “And the last one didn’t survive, do you recall?”

“Then we better not”, Eggsy whispers to his little fur ball. He just now realizes how much he missed JB and his unconditional love and excitement about trivial things, such as chewing on Harry’s slippers now.

 

It feels like they’re all in a parallel universe. Eggsy doesn’t know shit about physics above basic mechanic and electromagnetism, but he understands the concept of the theory: every past possibilities exist somewhere. There may be a universe where his father is alive and Harry threw himself on the grenade, there may be one in which Eggsy is still living in downtown, or one, where Harry really died in Kentucky. Every time a decision is made, a new universe is created. 

And when decisions have not been made yet, everything is in a superposition. And that means everything is possible. 

But that is - sadly - beyond causality and reality. Even if it looks possible for a moment, that all people in this room could stop doing what ever they’re doing and try something instead, that is more healthier for them, more gentle or just more fun. Though, more exciting would be difficult most times at this job.

Eggsy likes to think that, with backgrounds and causalities shut down, he could get well again in no time, because in some parallel universe this might just be the reality, and Roxy could find the time to date someone again, Merlin could find the sleep he needed and Harry would be healed of whatever is haunting him. 

He likes to imagine, how they all could just stay for a while, instead of heading back to HQ in approximately half an hour, maybe have a drinking night/sleepover. Eggsy would like that. Doing something unexpected and mad again, with his friends who are so funny they don’t even have a clue. 

But in reality, because causalities and work and danger exist after all outside these four walls, Roxy and Merlin head for HQ together in what seems only a moment later. Nevertheless, Harry and Eggsy stand alone in the hallway after saying goodbye and smile at each other. 

Maybe this is some kind of black hole, Eggsy thinks, while breathing in the smell of the house. Where time and relations are bent, not really physically, because there isn’t that much movement in the house to create different relations, but is is more like a feeling. A place that stays the same, while the rest of the world worries and hurries on. A place to rest. 

He watches Harry, going to the kitchen to prepare some food for dinner, JB strolling after him with the excited loyalty dog’s are born with. 

This is a place where he’s not alone.


	7. The Night is dark and full of Terrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy wakes up from a cry. It's not him who's sobbing, he realizes.

Eggsy wakes up from a cry in the house and immediately rolls out of bed in a reflex. What the fuck is this, he thinks as the voice whines again, even more miserable this time. His heart skips a beat as soon as he realizes it come from Harry’s room and judging from the noises he makes, his heart is just being burned out.

Eggsy gets up and jumps into the hallway as fast as he can. 

“’Arry?”, he calls down the corridor and runs to the older man’s door. “’Arry, you a’right?”

There is no answer but a faint weep and a scared growl, so Eggsy decides to push the door open and see what’s the matter with his friend. A flashback of a lethally hurt Harry in a hospital bed with a tube down his throat and his own blood still smeared on his cheek hits Eggsy hard and makes him breathe hard. He couldn’t take this another time.

But then, when he sees Harry curled up between the sheets, tossing himself around with a terrified look on his face, eyes closed, hands balled to fists, he realizes it’s a night terror and not a wound that makes the older man wince like this.

“’Arry”, Eggsy says while kneeling down at Harry’s bedside and gently putting his hand on the older man’s arm. “’Arry, wake up.”

Harry’s eyes open so fast and with such a terrified look, Eggsy gasps himself and struggles to keep balanced on his feet and not fall back over. 

For a second as long as a year, there is just this pair of brown eyes staring at him, pupils dilated, unbelieving of what they see and considering if this is still a dream or not; and finally Harry gasping loudly for air. His chest still trembles violently under his sobs.

“T’was just a dream”, Eggsy whispers and puts more pressure on the skin under his palm. Harry’s got big stains of sweat on his shirt, his forehead also gleans with it. Eggsy wipes it away carefully with the sleeve of his long shirt.

“Just a dream”, he repeats soothingly and keeps his hand on Harry’s cheek until the pulse at his forehead calms and he seems less disorientated. Eggsy can imagine that the shock made Harry speechless and is even more surprised when the older man wets his lips and speaks in a sotto voce. 

“I’m afraid, Eggsy”, he says with an almost scientific recognition, as if he just realized it himself despite trembling like a leaf.

“I can see that”, Eggsy replies and pulls a worried but empathizing smile. He looks down at Harry’s hand lying like a dead man’s on the sheets. He can’t bare the thought and tucks them into his own. Harry squeezes him back a little, thankfully.

“You should have your sleep”, Harry says, still slightly out of air.

Eggsy sighs and raises to sit on Harry’s bedside, the older man spread out before him. He looks vulnerable, Eggsy thinks, almost fragile.

“I knew ya would say that. And ya know what I’m gunna answ’r.” His own voice is a little too thick for his taste but he can’t repress his sympathy for Harry and so he cares - an awful lot actually. 

It feels good, though, Eggsy thinks, because even worry is an emotion and it’s different from the numbness he feels most of the time. He’d like to take care of Harry, maybe only a few hours, so Harry could rest properly and doesn’t have to act strong when he clearly doesn’t feel like it.

“I’m comforted enough already, thank you”, Harry rejects politely, still not looking okay at all. The way he tries to keep his lips from curling is frightening enough for Eggsy to stay.

“Ya are shite at lyin’, off we go, roll over.”

And frankly, Harry does. Reluctantly, but he does roam the place. Moaning like an old man but probably only because his muscles are sore from tensing in his attacks, he lifts his hips, scoots over and fumbles with the sheets. 

The spot where Eggsy comes to lie down is warm and slightly damp with an awful lot of Harry’s “natural scent” aka terror sweat and if that wouldn’t be comforting enough the goddamn man lies right next to him, looking slightly unsure of what to do. He is less composed than ever. His eyes speak of confusion and fear at least on some levels to Eggsy, and at the same time there’s nothing hidden behind his otherwise so intelligent and controlled expression. Harry’s made of glass right now, a sad glass sculpture.

“Gimme ya hand”, Eggsy commands and tucks Harry closer so he can put his fingers around the older man’s hand and place them both down next to his chest. He touches them every time he breathes which is an oddly satisfying feeling.

They’re going to sleep like that, because Harry is too overwhelmed to disagree or kick him out or maybe, and there upon lie all of Eggsy’s hopes, he can just roll with it. Shut his stupid brain off for a second and calm down, accept the comfort.

And Harry, non-surprisingly, just stares at him for a while silently and then closes his eyes with a deep sigh.

“Sleep well this time”, Eggsy murmurs.

Harry’s voice is as light as his breath, when he answers.  
“You too.”

 

Eggsy wakes up with hair in his mouth. Mussed, brown curls, to be exactly, which don’t taste as good as they smell. Hair rarely does.

The second thing he notices is the heat in his collar bone, where upon lies a nose that shoots hot streams of air on his already blushed skin. 

And there’s a head resting very comfortably next to his chest and after some sleepy consideration, Eggsy comes to the result that this is the head of Harry bloody Hart. Thankfully it’s Harry’s head and not the one of someone Eggsy picked up yesterday at a club or a head without a corpse (the job, ya know), but as the memory of last night slowly comes back, he remembers that this is actually indeed very unfortunately the head of his fucking colleague/flatmate/friend/whatever, whom he has no intimate relationship with, to be rational.

Eggsy tries to take a look at Harry’s face without moving too much but it’s nuzzled far too deep into his T-Shirt. 

He finds Harry’s right arm wrapped around his waist and the left one caged between the older man’s chest and Eggsy’s stomach. His own arms are somehow embracing Harry’s head, which sounds weird, but he’s hardly applying pressure, just holding it in place on his biceps. 

Harry isn’t that kind of person who sleeps into noon, Eggsy knows, so the situation can only be explained in two ways: Either the terror of last night had drained so much energy from him that he physically needed the sleep, or, which Eggsy much preferred, Harry felt comfortable enough to stay a few hours longer in bed than usual. 

And even though the image of Harry waking up, slowly realizing where he was and deciding to doze off again makes Eggsy’s heart flutter, he knows that the older man would probably be embarrassed at his position in their entanglement.

But before he takes action on getting up without Harry realizing a thing, Eggsy wants to enjoy the moment. For Neurotransmitters and shit. Feeling content and somehow careless (even though he cares an awful lot for this man, that be said, he just doesn’t care for his problems now) is rare these days, after all. 

Harry, apparently, doesn’t have a high opinion on this and turns away with a sigh. Eggsy’s skin’s already goose bumping the fuck up but the sight of Harry’s face makes him really loose his shit.

“God, he’s beautiful”, he whispers to himself, carefully observing the tiny wrinkles at Harry’s eyes, the evenly formed brows, the soft expression. Harry’s mouth opens slightly and a rattling breath escape. There’s some saliva on his left mouth corner and probably on Eggsy’s shirt, too. 

“And such a dork.”

His eyes go down on Harry, caress his pecs and the few strains of brown hair coming out of his T-Shirt, which is lifted at the hip bone.

No, no, no, Eggsy thinks panicking while rushing to get his eyes off the man and his body out of bed before he grows a full boner. “Fuck, fuck, fuck”, he whispers.

Harry sighs again and begins to wake. 

“Com’ back t’ bed”, the older man mumbles and reaches his left hand out in a defeated gesture.

Eggsy can’t help but laugh at this guy and his dorkiness until said man lifts his head from the pillows, all rumpled and a little grumpy, and realizes what he’s just said.

“Sorry”, Harry mumbles immediately. “That was...automatic.”

“Old habits die hard, yeah?”, Eggsy smiles and stretches. Harry’s appeal, although just an unconscious thought, makes him happy. Then he feels Harry’s eyes on his body and can’t quite get through his expression when their eyes meet. 

“Actually it’s been quite a while, since...”, Harry begins but stops himself, glares down on his hands and then straightens up. The short period of intimacy between them is over, Eggsy realizes. They’ve probably hit some border or anything. Harry isn’t comfortable with it and Eggsy can understand. So he slowly moves to the door in order to leave Harry’s bedroom before things get even more awkward. And although he was never supposed to be in here, he can’t lie to himself: it was nice. More than that.

“...since I shared a bed with someone”, Harry surprisingly finishes his sentence and gives Eggsy a small smile when he turns back to the older agent. “Thank you.”

“Me too”, Eggsy can’t help but reply and feels a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Ya up fo’ breakfast?”

 

“Do ya often ‘ave those...night terrors?”

Harry looks up from his toast and beans and watches Eggsy over the rim of his glasses.

“Sometimes.”

They haven’t said much until now. While Harry dressed himself in the bathroom, Eggsy flew to the guest room and changed in order to get the older man’s smell out of his system. The scent, the presence of Harry everywhere he went, drives Eggsy mad after two minutes of being parted from the older man.

Now that he sits in the kitchen and watches Harry eat - Harry, who just spend the night next to him, Harry, who nuzzled into his chest this morning, Harry, who looks adorable when he sleeps and Harry, who still has night terrors from Kentucky, he presumes - Eggsy can’t help but imagine this as the morning after. A very abstract concept now that Harry is no longer dead and gone (oh, how often he’d imagined it back then) but here, flesh and bones and ruffled hair.

Harry’s much more restrained now with his looks than the night before. Never he will never let Eggsy see any of this terrors as long as he is conscious. Never would he normally loose control over his breathing, Eggsy knows that.

And still, despite his ambivalence, Eggsy comes to adore how Harry reads his papers and yawns more loudly than he wanted to and excuses for it. It’s not an overwhelming feeling or anything, it’s just nice to be here with someone Eggsy likes. He could look at Harry and feel amused or amazed by his elegance or his smug looks. A good distraction at least, and little bit of fancying at best.

“Ya don’t ‘ave to be shy ‘bout it, “Just sayin’ it’s fine if ya wonna talk ‘bout it or anythin’, ‘Arry. You basically cried in ya sleep.”

Harry puts his papers down and takes a sip of coffee. He shoots Eggsy one of those smug looks and can barely keep his smile from reaching his wrinkled eyes.

“And you farted.”


	8. Dr. Fisher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy as his first therapy session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's weekend again, for heaven's sake. and hopefully I'll get all the things done i need to, including more chapters of this fic so I can post more frequently. Let me know what you think so far!

Harry is a gentleman, and of course he drives Eggsy to his first therapy sitting after Merlin had made an appointment.

“I will wait here for you”, Harry tells Eggsy with a reassuring expression after he parked the car in front of the building and got his newspaper out of the glove box.

“Thanks, ‘arry”, Eggsy murmurs and grabs his jacket from the backseat. He feels like a twelve year old boy whose mother is now waiting for him during football training. It only adds to his nervousness and the knot in his stomach.

At least, although Harry was driving, he is on time and doesn’t have to wait for long in the yellow waiting room with the abstract art pinned to the walls. The nurse leads him into a different white room with expensive furniture but it lacks the cliche couch to lie on and tell the psychiatrist of one’s inner struggles while staring at the ceiling intently.

Also, Dr. Fishers office is strangely enough not within the Kingsman facilities, but she - after coming through another door and politely asking him to sit down in one of the two leather chairs - soon enough tells him of her connection to the organization and Eggsy can relax a bit. She seems pretty nice. She’s older, at least 55, with gray strands in her dark hair that is cut into a bob. Her intelligent grey-blue eyes are likable, but he does feel carefully observed, his every move taken in by her gaze. And he knows how he looks right now: tired, sunken deep into his seat, hands in his pockets and lips pursed. He knows he’s being defensive in body language and not as open as one maybe should be when taking therapy, but to hell with that when it helps with his anxiety. He’s really fucking nervous now.

And then she asks him to tell her everything that happened. She knows of his suicide attempt from the file Merlin has send her, and Eggsy hopes he can convince of her no longer being suicidal. He fears what meds would have to take if she would not believe him. Taking medication was one of the things he suggested to Harry when they ate in the small Indian restaurant some days ago, but actually he’s afraid of it. He’s seen enough people in his streets go down on them and of course they’re not all the same shit, but it’s changing something for sure. Antidepressants, too, have side effects. 

Still, Eggsy begins to tell her his story, as far as the details are not classified and he can remember his feelings from over three months ago. He knows she wants feelings, he’s seen the movies.

Fisher takes notes, looks at him thoughtfully and asks calm questions in between when he’s not clear enough in his choice of words.

“So, you’re staying with Mr. Hart now?”

Eggsy sighs silently. That question had to be asked, he knows, because he told her of his grief for Harry in an accessory sentence and she clearly saw through his deception.

“He’s waiting in the car for me.”

“That’s kind of him, isn’t it?” Fisher asks without looking up from her notes.

“Yeah, think so. He’s always like this.”

“Since he returned”, she guessed correctly.

“Yeah, but like...we didn’t spend much time together before V-Day. Like..”, he’s fighting with the words, “...uh, we don’t know each other for long, to be honest.”

“Because you haven’t seen him for months?”

“Yes.”

“But you’ve missed him a great deal.”

Eggsy frowns. How could it all be about Harry again? He was sure that wasn’t the only reason for his poor condition. He didn’t want to jump off that bridge because he missed Harry, but because everything had gone to shit for him. He told her, in a calmer voice.

“I understand”, she nods, “I’m just trying to find out if it really is helping you to stay with him.”

Eggsy let’s go of his pursed lips. “I think he may need me, too”, he says in a serious voice, because suddenly it dawns to him. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t live with each other.”

She cracks a small smile and he can see under her mask of professionalism that she really likes him. 

“Because you may still be in love with him.”

“I’m not”, Eggsy shakes his head, suddenly feeling caught and cold all over. Maybe explained Harry’s character a bit too colorfully and appreciating. He had felt his heart flutter when telling her, but he’s really not in love with Harry Hart. He’s just confused.  
“I’m not in love with ‘arry.”

She surveys him and her eyebrow jerks the tiniest bit, but Eggsy is after all a spy and can’t be fooled by strangers. If she can make something of his movements, he can make some of hers. And, certainly, he sees that she doesn’t believe him.

They avoid the matter when she asks the next question. Fisher wants to now more of that night, her questions are precise and hurt Eggsy more and more. How did he feel? Was there a trigger? How long did he plan it? Why didn’t he use his gun?

Yeah, for fuck’s sake, why didn’t he just bring his gun? 

Because he didn’t want to end like his mentor. Being shot in the head for some inferior reason. 

Or

Because he wanted to have an emergency exit. He had read that study, in which every person that survived jumping from the Golden Gate Bridge had told the interviewer of how every problem they had seemed to shrink in importance mid-fall. If there was a last minute salvation, he wanted a chance to get it. Moving right in his fall, he could have survived the jump, he knew that. 

He leaves after another half an hour and felt more blue than he had in a week. That isn’t the purpose of therapy, is it? The exhaustion takes grip of him even more when he sees Harry, smart-looking as ever, still sitting in the car. Why was is waiting there? Does he feel like Eggsy needs someone to look after him? Definitely. But why does he have the urge to be that someone himself?

Harry spots him and opens the door for him from inside. Eggsy can feel his worried eyes in him when he falls into the leather seat and buckles his seat belt on.

“One appointment per week”, Eggsy tells him quietly, leaning away from him to the window. The cold is burning in his cheeks.

Harry nods in silence and starts the motor. Half an hour later they are home and Eggsy slogs to the door with hanging shoulders. He can’t help to feel miserable about all that happened again. He can’t help but think it could have been avoided if he had been stronger. And he doesn’t make progress yet, does he?

Eggsy stops in the hallway to decide where he wants to go. 

”Do you want tea?”, Harry asks from behind while hanging his suit jacket on a hook. His voice is quiet and soft, restrained from getting to personal or invasive. Eggsy appreciates that highly about Harry.

Eggsy shakes his head. “I want to lie down somewhere”, he said absently, pressing his eyes shut to banish the tiredness without success.

“Come”, Harry whispers and takes hold of his arms gently. He leads Eggsy to the couch in the living room, so he can work in the kitchen or read something downstairs and still have an eye on him. Eggsy doesn’t mind right now, he just wants to cuddle himself up somewhere warm.

Eggsy pulls the hood of his pullover over his head and lies down on the couch. Harry kneels down next to him, his arms settled on the small brink of the cushions Eggsy doesn’t lie on. 

J.B. comes down from upstairs, where he definitely had a good nap in Harry’s bed, and jumps on the couch to roll himself up again in the curve of Eggsy’s legs.

“I guess you have talked enough for today”, Harry says, watching the pug with a small smile, “but if there’s something, I’m right next door.” 

“I’m cold”, Eggsy whispers and the older man nods, reaching out for a blanket neatly folded and draped over an armchair. He shakes it out and drapes it over his former protégé in a swift movement.

“Thank you, Harry.” It’s not very whole-hearted, but all he can bring himself to say now.

Harry gives him half a smile and brushes through the fine hair coming from under the hood, before he leaves.

For some time he is afraid the carousel will haunt him again, and thinking of that alone usually generates it, but Eggsy can actually just lie there for an hour, even if he can’t sleep. Harry is rummaging in the kitchen and that’s nice. Having Harry around is almost always nice. 

He still feels cold under the blanket, despite his hoody, sweat pants and the snoring pug by his feet. He need some kind of heating device right now, a hot-water bottle or three extra layers of fat.

But he wont call across the house for Harry, no. He’s not that pathetic yet, he just had a bad day.

In the end he still sends him a text, because that’s less ridiculous than calling and he’s fucking freezing. It’s October, of course it’s colder now, but why do his feet feel like ice blocks?

Maybe it’s mental, he thinks, while fingering out his phone and tipping the message.

“Still cold, could ya put on the kettle?”

He even hears the little sound of Harry’s phone from the kitchen and - but he might have misheard - a light chuckle, before the tap is turned on.

While the kettle cooks, Harry’s goes upstairs, as Eggsy hears by the creaking of the stairs and returns to the living room finally with a tray of tea and little biscuits, a hot-water bottle, another blanket and one of his own, awfully good smelling woollen jumpers. 

“We have to improve your layering”, he explains as he looks down at Eggsy, who has curled up into the cushion as tight as possible. Harry sets everything down and carefully untucks the blanket around the younger man and makes him sit up for a moment, so he can change from his thin hoody to the bigger jumper.

Harry’s jumper is heaven. Unbelievably soft and it certainly cost him more than Eggsy spends on a year of clothing. 

Harry rolls the bottle into the loose hem of the far too big sweater - is that fucking cashmere? - and feels for the warmth of Eggsy’s hands. 

“You’re warm”, he notices with a little frown. 

“Maybe it’s coming from inside”, Eggsy mutters, pulling the blankets over himself again while trying not to disturb the pug too much. “A heart made of ice.”

“Don’t be ridiculous”, Harry replies and goes from kneeling into sitting on the floor in a swift movement. Eggsy takes a better look at the man, sideways though, and watches as Harry sips on his tea savouringly. 

“Sorry, I’m like this”, Eggsy blurts out, suddenly, not expecting it himself. He’s causing trouble all the way from the final test to them sitting/lying in Harry’s living room. 

Harry stops in his movements and turns around slowly, back to Eggsy. “Like what?”

Oh shit, he’s gotta explain now.

Eggsy pulls the sleeves over his hands and draws his arm back against his chest. Shit shit shit.

It’s not like this damsel-in-distress shit makes him sound anyhow cute, he’s just embarrassed by himself and his voice is half a croak. 

“Like...ya know...ya gotta care for me and get me blankets and your jumper.” 

There’s a moment, where Eggsy can see the uncertainty in Harry’s whiskey-brown eyes whether to comfort him with fond words or just ignore the previous comment. 

“Is something wrong with the jumper?”, he asks then, with a fine glint in his eyes while his lips are still pursed in consideration. His hands move again, setting the cup of tea back on the tray. 

Eggsy looks at him a moment longer, just to show that he understands Harry’s decision, and shakes his head with a smile.

“No no, it’s heavenly. Must get one like this m’self some day, maybe I should ask Merlin for a raise.”

Harry snorts. “While your on vacation? Better not.” 

“Still, mine won’t smell as good as yours”, Eggsy blurts out, again. Goddammit, Harry’s presence is making him far too comfortable. 

Harry raises a brow at that and let’s a little breath escape from his chest, like it was caught there for some time. “Are you still cold?”, he asks then.

“’s okay now”, Eggsy answers with a tired smile. He wants to talk some with Harry, but not about Dr. Fisher and not about the night on top of Tower Bridge. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?”, Eggsy asks him, carefully still.

Harry looks up again from his folded hands and acts like he considers his choices, before he answers. 

“I have to collect a suit from the cleaners, and I own the library a three-month-fee for the book I borrowed. What about you?”

“Err, nothing really.”

“Then I would be glad if you accompanied me”, Harry suggest in a honest voice. 

He looks tired, too, when he doesn’t directly look Eggsy in the eye. And he put some make-up on his scar, Eggsy can see it in the way his left temple shines in the light falling in from the windows. It’s not right that he tries that hide it from him, Eggsy thinks, feeling pathetic all over again. 

He wants to comfort Harry too, because that’s what friends are there for, right? And in their little agreement Harry did most of the looking after and caring and asking questions. Except for that one fucking night, that still scared the shit out of Eggsy.

“I would like to”, Eggsy answer eventually. “But only if we’re going for a pint afterwards.”

Harry shots him a smug look, his mouth twitching. 

“And don’t try to be a show-off again.”

“Me?”, Harry asks, snorting unappreciatingly. “I didn’t smash my fist into the two-way-mirror at the water test.”

“What did you do then?”, Eggsy teases. “Go unconscious?”

“I think you should sleep a bit”, Harry says a bit to hastily, clearly avoiding the matter, and pushing himself up. He sounds far to innocent to trick Eggsy into anything. “You’re a bit off-hook, it seems.”

“Ey, old man”, Eggsy complains, reaching out for Harry’s sleeve to draw him back. “You owe me this story.” He doesn’t, really, but Eggsy wants Harry to tell him more. There is hell a lot of potential for funny and exciting stories in the older man’s live. Also for sad ones, but that’s for later. Sad stories belong to good times, to make them more precious.

He takes Harry’s hand into his and curls his fingers around the older man’s palm gently, just trying to give some of the comfort back. In contradiction to him being cuddled up in multiple layers of warmth, Harry looks almost naked in his plain white shirt and the dark trousers with red suspenders. 

Harry smiles that little, knowing-all-too-well smile of his and squeezes back, before he leaves.


	9. Over for Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle & Daisy come over for tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid the time of domesticity will end some time soon, so please enjoy!

Eggsy’s mum and sis visit them the day after, still unknowing of the events on last Saturday.

Naturally, Michelle Unwin screams a bit, when not her Eggsy but Harry fucking Hart opens the door, looking very proper and very nervous at the same time. It’s been quite a while since the two of them seen each other under rather traumatic circumstances.

Fortunately, Eggsy can calm her in almost no time and takes them to the living room where Daisy happily plays on the floor while he tries to explain everything that’s happened to his mother, leaving out the classified bits and last Saturday of course. Harry’s back from a Sabbath year, that may sound legit to her. Or not, he doesn’t care.

“You never told me you worked with this man!”, Michelle is still upset but keeps her voice down in case Harry is still around. But Eggsy has seen him vanishing into his study, probably cherishing a drink. He drinks a lot, Eggsy thinks.

”Yeah, ‘cause I knew ya would’ve this reaction”, he sighs but tries to put on a smile for her. She knew very well that Eggsy wasn’t in fact a tailor, although he fed her continuously with as he had thought some very convincing lies. But no tailor could have that many bruises from raging clients or a broken arm from a car accident the third time this year. She very well new he got his money on something he didn’t want to talk or wasn’t allowed to talk about and having some experience with men in this field, she didn’t ask any further questions.

Well, until now.

“He’s worked with your father, ya know that, don’t ya?”, she screeches. 

“I naw”, Eggsy tries to calm her, “he told me the first day we met.”

“This is crazy”, she says to herself and focuses on the pattern of the pillow nearest to her. “You know ya dad died because of him?”

Eggsy shakes his head in a disagreeing way. “They both wanted to thro’ themselv’s in front of...ya know...Dad was just faster.” Classified information is a bitch, he himself had found this out only month ago after getting the report from the archives on Merlin’s name. Merlin hadn’t even been cross about that.

Michelle settles back with an unhappy face and watches Daisy for a bit. Eggsy imagines how she recalls her memory of that evening Harry gave Eggsy the medal, the evening he barely remembers.

“And you live together na?”, she asks after a while, obviously accepting her fate. Eggsy is almost sorry for joining Kingsman, just as he had felt like shite when she had terrorized him about being a marine. But he can precisely remember the remorse, too, because he really liked the military for a while - everything was ordered, there was no Dean running into his room drunk at night and hitting him - just as he loved being a knight.

“Yeah, basically. He’s got...”, he starts, startled again on what he’s allowed to tell her. “...he went away for a while and I watched his house for the time. It’s nicer than my flat, ya see. And we’re bros so there’s no much fuzz about sharing”, he explains bluntly.

“So you both will stay ‘ere for a while?”

“Think so.”

She takes deep breath, looks at him and nods confidently, because she knows he’s old enough to live with whatever guy he wants. Eggsy observes her very carefully, too. She has second thoughts, of course, maybe he should show her his - separated - guest room, but at least she still has no clue about the other thing, the Bridge thing. He doesn’t want her to know, even though he can barely tell her anything else about live.

“Ya wanna tea, Dais?”, he then asks his sister and she nods dreamily while chewing on a little car of wood.

“’m gonna asks Harry, too”, he proposes and okay with seeing his mum nod again absently.

Eggsy climbs up the steps and sticks his head through Harry’s door. “Ya up for tea time with me mum & Dais? They wanna get ta know ya.”

Harry sits, as Eggsy had expected, in front of his computer, forehead all wrinkled. He looks up and opens his mouth to excuse himself politely, Eggsy supposes, so the young man puts on his puppy face.

“Please, ‘Arry. My sis is such a sunshine.”

Harry hesitatingly nods a surrender and closes his laptop to follow him downstairs. He looks awfully tense while they make tea in the kitchen, leaning over the counter like a stick. It doesn’t alter after they sit in the living room for a while - all four of them - and Daisy invites Harry to sit with her on the floor.

“I’ll be honored”, Harry replies with a smile and Eggsy is stunned for a solid 15 minutes, constantly watching his former boss sitting crossed-legs on a rug next to his little sis and playing with all sorts of cars, while talking to his mom about the little nothingnesses in their lives. Harry makes the proper noises, too, and is far better at it than Eggsy. He’s probably heard some of those hot wheels for real at some point at his life. Or driven them - agent style.

Rain begins to pour outside and Eggsy kneels down in front of the fireplace do warm the room up a little. 

“Where’s the fucking switch?”, he asks and looks for said switch to inflame the log still lying under the chimney.

“Language, Eggsy”, Harry reminds him. He’s lying on his side now, letting Daisy tug carefully on his tie. She already tore his glasses off. “And what switch are you looking for?”

Eggsy frowns and turns around to tell the older men “for the fucking electro-fire” in the most cockiest voice he has, but then it dawns to him. 

“This ain’t a real fireplace, is it?”, he asks puzzled. 

Harry raises a brown and gives him a royal nod. “It is. I’m afraid you have go get some logs from the backyard to get it started.”

“You’re not old-fashioned, ‘Arry, you’re Victorian”, Eggsy complains, takes a last look at the fireplace and then surrenders to just turn up the heater up a little and lay down next to Daisy on his stomach. 

Harry throws him a there’s-no-one-now-to-entertain-your-mother-look and pushes himself up defeateedly to go back to the couch and have some of the small talk he has avoided the last hour. 

Eggsy tickles Daisy and listens to them. They’re talking of Lee straight from the start, but it’s probably good for his mom to have it off her chest. Harry tells her a little story about Lee and a colleague - presumably the former Lancelot James when they were still recruits - getting drunk and Lee screaming all the time that he had to go back to his beautiful wife when the group dragged him into yet another pub. Michelle laughs and purses her lips again.

“The recruits have their personal objects taken from them while training”, Harry elaborates with a warm voice, “but Lee somehow managed to snitch his wallet from the store room where it was locked. Every time someone spoke to him he would show the pictures of you & Eggsy to us. He liked the job, but he missed you constantly.”

Eggsy looks up, surprised by the sadness now filling the room, and finds his mother crying softly into Harry’s shoulder. He has a hand on her arm and a great melancholia in his eyes, but Eggsy thinks it’s very brave and very kind of him to tell her these stories. They will make her happy for a long time.

Harry meets Eggsy’s eyes and Eggsy can’t read the look on the older man’s face. What is he seeing when he looks at the young agent? His father, his own doing, himself? Many people had told Eggsy he looked just like Harry after his first missions, but he didn’t mind that much. Now he minds. He wants to be seen as himself, as a person distances from all what has happened.

“He always spoke very highly of you, I remember”, Michelle whispers and Harry turns around to her.

“Oh, did he?”

“Yes, just as my Eggsy”, she sniffs, sits straight up again an wipes her nose. “You seem to charm all of my boys.”

Harry pulls a small smile and Eggsy turns back to Daisy, hiding his face in her hands. She laughs a lot lately, another thing to be happy about. 

Michelle picks sleeping Daisy up from the floor an hour later, while Eggsy collects her toys and puts them back in a bag. Harry’s searching for an umbrella without “specialties” to give them both on the way after Michelle vehemently refused his offer to drive them. Maybe that’s just a step too far for now, but Eggsy doesn’t care. The afternoon was surprisingly good and Mum’s flat’s just two tube stations away. 

Michelle shakes hands with Harry and kisses Eggsy for a goodbye, then disappears into the thick curtain of grey rain.

“They’re both lovely”, Harry says, before Eggsy can comment anything. He has a honest little smile on his lips. “And I’m very relieved she didn’t kill me.”

Eggsy snorts and fetches the tea set to put it in the sink in the kitchen. 

“What ar’ we gunna do with the rest of the evenin’?”, he asks loud enough that Harry can hear him in the hallway. There is silence for a moment and then Harry leans in the door frame and arches an eyebrow.

“You wanted to light a fire earlier?”

Eggsy nods with a smirk and follows Harry down the hallway through the backdoor into the garden. They run through the rain heading for the little shed a the end of the grass, where some lodges lie under a roof. Nothing is of shape for a fireplace, though.

Harry gets an axe from inside the shed and hands it over to Eggsy to get a big chunk of wood on which one of them can chop the smaller lodges. 

“Are ya serious?”, Eggsy frowns at the older man who’s standing with his hands on his hips and hitched breathing filling his chest. 

“I’m afraid one has to work for his comfort.”

With a snort Eggsy extends his arms and hands the axe over again. “You gonna smash it into pieces, I’m gunna pick shit up.”

“The right verb is ‘chop’, I think”, Harry teases him but turns around to put the first lodge on the block. Eggsy leans back and watches him for a while. Harry’s still wearing his suit trousers and his shirt, but the latter is rather wet and clinging to his back. Not a bad view, though. And Harry’s got a lovely arse, maybe more muscle than fat but definitely...no no no. What is he thinking here again?

Eggsy picks up the wood and they both run back to the house. Harry gives him a pack of matched and yesterdays paper for the fire and goes upstairs to change into something less wet.

If there was something Eggsy had always been good at, it was setting things on fire. Dog shit in paper bags on a front porch of his teacher for example, or lightening a blunt. Making a real, healthy fire had been part of his training, but he recalls there had been other things to be done at that moment. Like putting chestnuts in Charlie’s campfire and waiting for them to explode onto him.

So Harry naturally comes down to quite a mess, but after he opens the chimney and the air circulates better, it becomes quite adequate, as he says. They pull up the nearest sofa in front of the grill and settle down.

“Who did the outdoor course with you again?”, Harry asks while crossing his legs like a proper gentlemen would.

“Smoke signals were definetely part of the training”, Eggsy deadpans, referring to the little carbon monoxide curtain earlier. His flatmate is wearing his beige cardigan again, which reminds Eggsy of the last day they seen each other before...Kentucky.

“You al’right?”, Eggsy asks, staring into the fire.

“Quite so. How about you?” The tease has faded from Harry’s voice and nothing but honest interest stays, bringing an inner warmth to Eggsy. He has to get used to the affection Harry apparently has for him, but now it is just nice. They cared for each other in quite the right amount.

“’s fine. I mean, ‘s been a good day.”

Harry nods understandingly. “I’m quite fond of your sister, she’s astonishing.”

“Astonishing? How did that word come to ya posh mind?”, Eggsy laughs, and elbows Harry gently. Cheeky bastard as he is, he can scoot a little closer in the movement so that their shoulders touch without Harry battling an eyelash.

“She’s adorable”, Harry mimics Eggsy’s accent and elbows back. 

“Didn’t know ya were good wif lil’ kids.”

“Basically, I am not.” Harry raises an eyebrow an sighs. “They tend to scare me, but she’s such a darling.”

They chat for a bit until Eggsy gets tired, which he is basically always, and doesn’t give enough shits anymore to not put his head on Harry’s shoulder an stare into the fireplace until he falls asleep.

 

He wakes in the morning on the couch though, with a sheet wrapped around him and his jacket neatly folded next to him on a chair. “I did not want to wake you. Sorry for your ruined back. - H”, says a note on the jacket.


	10. 3 in the Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy's cooking hot milk for a reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short&comforting

“Is there a reason why you’re rummaging around the kitchen at 3 in the morning?”

Eggsy turns around from the stove to find a rumpled looking Harry standing in the door frame to the dining room, barefoot and arms crossed over his chest.

“I couldn’t sleep”, Eggsy replies dryly and returns to his not-so-much-boiling milk. “Sorry for waking you.” He hears Harry push away from the door and come a few steps nearer to settle on a stool at the kitchen counter.

“And why is that?”

“Dunno.”

“Few on words tonight, are we?”, Harry sighs behind Eggsy’s back and the younger man can barely stand the thought of Harry’s eyes staring at him. He stirs the milk a little quicker.

“Ya want some hot milk with honey, too?”, he asks eventually and turns around to Harry to see if he nods or just keeps watching him worriedly.

“Very much so.”

Ten minutes later they both lower their cups on the table again an wipe the milky mustaches from their upper lips.

“What kept you awake, Eggsy?”, Harry asks with a voice still rough from sleep. His eyes catch Eggsy’s and search for an answer in them. But Eggsy isn’t sure he knows it himself.

“I thought a lot.”

Harry looks at him more intensely. He’s on the hook now, Eggsy realizes with a sigh, and wont let it go easily. “About what?”

“Stuff, ya na.” It’s obviously not enough of an answer. “’Bout me returning to field duty. ‘Bout this vacation to end someday.”

Harry furrows his brows. “Do the missions scare you?”

“No, but a dunno if a can trust m’self anymore”, he breathes and concentrates on his hands holding the still warm cup. “I...experienced some changes.” Weight gain, loss of concentration, loss of self-trust...Dr. Fisher could write him book full of it some day.

“Merlin told me you were distracted. You couldn’t concentrate.”

Eggsy looks up in pain to search for help in Harry’s eyes but there is only a spark of understanding yet.

“I still can’t”, he winces. “It’s not goin’ anywhere, ‘Arry. I’m not gettin’ better. I’m not suicidal, but I’m not fine, okay?”

He’s felt emotional the whole night, that’s why he made an effort to move and distract himself, making something to drink in the kitchen. He didn’t want t cry tonight, not again. But now he feels tears burning in his eyes. He’s disappointed in himself, he doesn’t want to be like the pathetic child he still is.

“Fuck”, he mutters and wipes his eyes with trembling hands. “I’m nuthin’ without Kingsman, I don’t wanna be nuthin’ again.” The young man buries his face in his forearms out of embarrassment.

Harry is pursing his lips and watches him with a sadness embedded into his face like letters engraved in a headstone. He pushes himself up with a swift movement and walks around the table to put a pair of comforting hands on Eggsy’s shoulders. He gently squeezes them and strokes his thumps over Eggsy’s prominent vertebra at the beginning of his neck. 

“This is a shit time to think about something like this”, Harry mumbles in a soothing voice near to the younger man’s ear. “How can you think you could be ‘nothing’? You’re a Kingsman agent, my boy, your such a kind and bright human being. And you have all the right in the world to feel like this from time to time.”

“It’s poisoning me, ‘Arry”, Eggsy sniffs and grabs the older man’s left hand on his shoulder with his own hand to hold onto it tight, thankful for the support. “I don’t wanna ‘ave this on me mind, but I can’t ‘elp.”

“All right”, Harry sighs, shifting his hands under Eggsy’s armpits to drag him up. He comes to stand unsteadily in Harry’s arms, more precisely Harry is grabbing Eggsy by the upper arms and forcing the agent to look him in the eye. “This is your brain, okay? You are this brain, Eggsy, your body is just transport. Think of something, anything, that makes you happy. You can concentrate, because you’re in control!”

Eggsy nods, melting into Harry grip, because its easier than standing on his own. 

“It’s not gunno work”, he replies defeatedly but closes his eyes anyway, which is pushing the last tears from them. 

“There’s nothing left but trying, my boy.”

Eggsy tries to concentrate on something good, something bright. A childhood memory of the time Dean wasn’t with his mum, some of his training at Kingsman, some gymnastic contest, the first boy he fell in love with. But its all so far away and some of the old stuff only causes nostalgia, a sad longing for those worry-free days.

The only thing he can hold onto now is the tight but gentle grip around his arms, the warmth spreading from it through Eggsy’s body. He imagines Harry standing in front of him with soft eyes and muzzled hair from sleep, dressed into something comfortable, a jumper maybe. 

Or even better, a smile on Harry’s face. A genuine smile, which is something really rare.

There is warmth circulating through his body again. Eggsy imagines Harry’s dimples and his heart flutters a little, which is after all a sign of life. 

“Okay”, Eggsy breathes when he is calmed again and opens his eyes to find the real world unfolding in front of him: Harry, looking worried but relaxed, with broad shoulders and soft hair and a reassuring open look on his face.

“It worked?”, Harry asks slightly unsure.

“For the moment.” Eggsy leans forward and puts his head on Harry’s chest, drawing a deep breath to impregnate his brain with Harry’s scent. Doubts flash his mind for a second, but he feels comfortable with this decision to close the gap between them. He doesn’t feel like they have this border anymore, no professional distance, and that Harry is fully there for him, not just to cook him dinner. So he may use him for comfort once in a while and the other way around. 

“I’m sorry”, he whispers, though. Because this really is the wrong time to have a mental breakdown and wake your flatmate by rattling with his pots.

“Don’t worry”, Harry replies and puts his arms around the younger man. Harry’s chin is resting on Eggsy’s scalp now, which makes the younger man feel a lot more protected than he likes to admit.


	11. There We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's in a bad mood, which turns out to be much more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment & critics alsways welcome!

Harry has a shit day and Eggsy doesn’t know what to do. 

He called Merlin for help, but the tech wizards has to handle Percival’s mission in southern France today and is terribly busy, as always.

Harry is sitting in his armchair, slouched over, elbows resting on his knees and his face cupped in his hands. It’s frightening, Eggsy thinks while standing in the door and trying to decide for what to do. 

Harry, periodically, ignores him. Or, because his state of mind seems rather involuntarily, he doesn’t recognize Eggsy. So Eggsy went for a run in the early morning, expecting Harry only to be in a bad mood because of night terrors and his grumpiness to be gone in a couple hours - like the last time -, but Harry didn’t even look at him when he returned, and that isn’t very much like Harry.

Nothing makes sense. Harry isn’t doing anything productive today, he doesn’t even dress properly this morning. Eggsy makes breakfast but it remains untouched and trying to talk to Harry ends in being either huffed at or remaining completely ignored. 

Roxy, also busy with a good ol’ honey pot mission texts and suggests him to contemplate the last 12 hours for reasons and excuses herself, because she has to get laid by an attractive 34-year old danish woman.

So Eggsy sits his arse down and thinks it all over. Firstly, Harry’s mind is totally fucked up. Secondly, Harry’s mind is never fucked up that tremendously. 

Eggsy has started to see the first signs when he woke up with a burst lip and blood stained gums. Harry woke up too, beginning to smile as he mostly did when he found the young man next to him in the morning, regretful though for that indicated he had been making some trouble last night, and the sun shone through the windows. But then, after some moments of perplexed blinking, his face dropped.

Things like this happen when you live with someone with violent nightmares that sometimes reoccur although the person has been waked. Eggsy gets kicked while trying to calm him or wakes up to a fist in his face again that night, but Harry’s after all someone he deeply cares for and even though Eggsy is terrified at first, he normally manages to wake the older man, shaking him gently or pressing his shoulders down. Most times it works beautifully. Except for last night.

Last night when he woke up at 3 in the morning from Harry’s pained groans and sprinted through the hall to Harry’s bedroom. But the older man just couldn’t be waked from his dreams. Eggsy pinned him into the mattress to prevent him from hurting himself or Eggsy, but putting pressure on him and speaking softly just hadn’t been enough this time. He just waited for the cramps and the fighting to end, using all his strength to hold Harry down and his tears back. Seeing the older man so much in pain and feeling so helpless facing his agony was pure brutality. 

But, eventually, Harry calmed down as he entered another sleeping phase and they woke up as always in the morning. 

With the exception of a burst lip and the promise of a bruised cheekbone on Eggsy’s behalf.

“That was me”, Harry had whispered, and reached out to touch the marks. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t wake ya”, Eggsy admitted, trying a tired smirk. “How do ya feel?”

Harry didn’t answer, only his expression altered. And it was hard for the younger man to recognize the face he made, but after a moment he realized it was shame. He had never seen Harry ashamed, that was something entirely new to the palette of Harry’s expressions he knew of. 

“Headache”, Harry pressed, suddenly pushing himself up and out of bed, disappearing to the bathroom. 

Eggsy wondered, but he knew he had to give Harry the space he needed right now and as the last two times, he felt slightly awkward when crawling out of the other man’s bed. So he went down to make breakfast that - as mentioned - remained untouched by Harry. Then he goes for a run and comes back to Harry sulking in his armchair, his gaze absently lingering on the carpet.

He still sits there, while Eggsy tries to understand this, while making himself a cup of coffee and leaning to the kitchen counter. Soon he begins to wander around, restlessly searching for a solution because his fucking flatmate won’t fucking talk to him. Or can’t. 

Out of habit and with a little suspicion, Eggsy searched in Harry’s nightstand drawer and his day old trouser’s pockets for a hint, before he checks the cabinet behind the bathroom mirror. There it is: a half empty bottle of vicodin. 

Eggsy knows some shit about vicodin, because Jamal used to deal it in school. Pain killers, hallucinogens, overdose potentially lethal.

He grabs the bottle and runs down the staircase to Harry, who’s still lingering in his chair. 

“What he fuck, Haz”, Eggsy murmurs and checks him for the few symptoms he knows: sweating, slow pulse, cold damp skin or blue lips. Harry’s looking him in the eyes at least, but not responding to his touch or voice.

Eggsy calls Merlin and tells him of Harry before the Head of Tech can put the phone down again. He puts on his Kingsman glasses and lets Merlin take a good look. 

“Shit”, the magician whispers and Eggsy listens as he demands another handler for Percival in the meanwhile. “Okay Eggsy, he doesn’t seem too affected for it to be dangerous.”

“The fuck? He looks like shit, what do I do?”, Eggsy panics, but to be honest he can guess the next steps. Merlin approves and so Eggsy slings his arms around his Harry and carries him to the downstairs bathroom as gently as he can. It’s not easy, although Harry has lost weight, but he still feels like a half a ton to the younger man. Harry groans and murmurs something under his breath, but at least he doesn’t fight.

“Is he responsive now?”, Merlin asks and Eggsy negates. Harry has closed his eyes when Eggsy sits them with his back leaned on the bathtub. 

“Not really”, Eggsy answers, cupping Harry’s saggy face in his hands. He rises again to search the cabinet for the naxalone Merlin told him to find. He grabs it and some disinfection, fills a syringe lying nearby - because a fucking Kingsman-household has this kind of shit for good reasons apparently - and kneels down before Harry again.

“Our team is on its way”, Merlin says in his right ear, watching as Eggsy disinfects a small part of Harry’s biceps and pushes the needle into the flesh. Harry flinches, his breath accelerates.

“He might vomit”, Merlin explains after Eggsy has plucked the syringe out again and throws it into the bathtub. “Keep him from choking on it until paramedic is there.”

“Stupid bugger”, Eggsy whispers, while keeping Harry’s face upright from sagging to his chest. “Do you hear me, ‘arry?”

Harry makes a faint noise and frowns. It takes him another two minutes to finally form some words. “Shit”, he curses. “That hurts.”

And then he’s vomiting, just as Merlin’s predicted. It’s ugly and the sound is disgusting, and seeing Harry’s whole body tremble in an attempt to keep the few contents of his stomach aches Eggsy even more. 

“Hey”, he whispers, cradling his fingers through Harry’s hair and just letting Harry puke it all out onto the floor between his long legs. When he can lift his head again, bits of vomit and fluid stick to his lips and everything is reeking of it.

Eggsy doesn’t even raise a brow at that, he knows it all too well. From Jamal’s first tries with cannabis, his mum’s alcohol consume and at last also her pregnancy. He gets up to wet a towel with warm water and returns to wipe it across Harry’s white face.

His eyes are observant again, all of the sudden. There’s a sharp glint to them and an expression of total discomfort and illness.

“What did you do?”, Eggsy asks quietly. He can imagine Harry has a hell of a headache now. For a second, Eggsy wonders why he isn’t angry. He doesn’t know if Harry has taken that amount deliberately or if Harry just didn’t know which amount was appropriate? Eggsy, though, can’t find any reasoning for the latter. 

“I’m so sorry”, Harry whispers, ripping pieces out of Eggsy’s heart.

“It’s okay now”, Eggsy soothes him, his hands keeping grip to Harry’s neck so he can feel his pulse. “Paramedic’s on their way.”

Harry doesn’t say much after that. He leans back again, drawing big, slow breaths through his enormous chest and looking down at the puddle of half-digested stomach contents with disgust and regret. 

Paramedics arrive 10 minutes later. One man and a woman in grey Kingsman infirmary attire. They carry Harry out of the bath with ease, lowering him down on a stretcher they shoved into the hallway. The far younger man talks to Eggsy in a sympathetic tone, wants to know what Harry had eaten and wants Eggsy to show him the box of pills, all while Merlin tries to calm him in his right ear.

 

Eggsy waits in an abandoned conference room in HQ for something to happen. If Harry was approachable, Merlin would have called him. If Roxy had returned, she would search for him here. If Harry was dangerously ill, Merlin would have called. 

So receiving a call from the head of tech-department was paired with conflicting emotions, that are only eased when Roxy breaks through the door. She has fresh clothes under her arms and drops them on the end of the conference table opposite from where Eggsy sits. She doesn’t say a word, she doesn’t even look at him directly, but seeing her and her calmness helps Eggsy to relax.

“Heard anything of ‘Arry?”, Eggsy manages to asks without sounding too anxious. Because basically he feels the kind of exhaustion one has after a long mission, only paired with some sort of regret because he failed to see the symptoms earlier and a compulsive bitterness about how fucked up Harry is too overdose on vicodin.

“Merlin said he’ll be fine, when I talked to him”, Roxy assures him and walks towards Eggsy with long, precise steps. There’s an air of getting-things-done waving around her, some aura of accomplishment. As always, Eggsy envies her about that. Because here he sits, sprinkled with vomit and too tired from all this shit, and his flatmate just drugged himself.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

“You know Merlin wants to talk to you both soon, I suppose”, she says in a somewhat lower voice and settles down next to him.

“Of course”, Eggsy whispers. He’s pursing his lips now, keeping them from trembling. “This is so fucked up.”

“I’m sorry you had to see him like that”, Roxy says sympathetically, placing a hand on his shoulder. She’s god at that too: comforting people. Or at least him. 

“Stupid wanker”, he huffs.

She sighs in relieve. “Fucking bastard, indeed. What did he think by that?”

“I don’t know, Rox”, Eggsy answers calm, his lips finally still again.

“He ‘s getting a fucking scolding by me and Merlin as soon as that stupid plastic tube is out of his throat!”

Eggsy smiles at his friend’s anger and finally leans into her so she can wrap her arms around him with a soft hum. “You shouldn’t have been made to watch him crash”, she whispers into his hair. 

“He’s just as broken as I am”, Eggsy whispers back, letting a silent graceful tear run down his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is some kind of cliffhanger chapter and most things will be resolved in the next one, i think.  
> Regarding the medical component of this chapter I have to warn you that I am not a trained nurse or doctor and all got all my info from websites on poisoning and drug abuse. 
> 
> These are some of them:  
> http://www.poisons.co.nz/fact.php?f=19  
> http://www.mayoclinic.org/first-aid/first-aid-poisoning/basics/art-20056657  
> http://www.gifte.de/Antidote/naloxon_ratiopharm.htm (german)


	12. A Medical Decision

He’s screaming again, Eggsy can hear it through the doors into the hallway and around the corner where the visitors chairs are placed. The infirmary is quiet, not much fussing going on, and Merlin’s voice cuts through the sterile mood of the place. Shouting just doesn’t belong into a hospital.

The doors opens, shuts again with a loud banging sound. Roxy, still adrenaline flushed from her short time with Harry, nods to Eggsy with a small smile and follows Merlin when he rushes past, his ears colored in an incredible shade of red.

Eggsy raises and flattens down his fresh pressed shirt which is thankfully lacking any stains of vomit. He felt renewed after a shower and putting on new clothes, but the memory of this morning still stings him. Facing Harry now is going to be uncomfortable. Knowing the older man, Harry will feel terribly ashamed, constantly apologizing himself for what he’s done especially after Merlin and Roxy rolled over him with their guilt-trips. 

Before Eggsy can even make a plan for himself and how to react, he’s at the door, pushing down the handle and holding his breath. Harry isn’t lethally wounded, he reminds himself, he’s fine, he’s alright.

“Eggsy”, Harry greets him quietly, not offering a smile or at least a less saddened expression. There’s shame again in his face, in the way his brows narrow so miserably; and embarrassment, because after all he puked his entrails out to Eggsy just a few hours ago. Like a scolded child, sitting in a far too big hospital bed. “I’m so sorry..”

There we go, Eggsy thinks, feeling unable to be angry at Harry for any of that shit. Loosing control? He mastered that skill himself, so fuck it. 

“You okay?”, he asks far too quietly to sound as distanced as he would have liked. 

Harry nods, looking worried about everything at the same time. So Eggsy just sits down on his bedsides, carefully looks for any tubes he could interrupt and then - after finding no such thing anymore except for the IV on Harry’s hand - leans in for a hug. 

“Stupid wanker”, he murmurs, far too fond in tone of voice to let it sound offensive. He buries his face in the crook of Harry’s neck that isn’t smelling of his cologne anymore, only of cold sweat and dry hospital clothes, but only lingers there for a second before he presses their temples together and can finally feel Harry hugging him back.

“I thought you would let me explain before I could even hope for you to forgive me”, Harry whispers back, his hand finding the way into Eggsy’s hair.

“Oh shut up, ‘arry”, Eggsy grunts and leans back to sitting on Harry’s side. Harry looks like shit: pale, heavy eye-bags, stiff limps. Merlin informed him that they had pumped his stomach out and were giving him fluids through the IV, no wonder at all he isn’t making the best impression.

“I harmed you so much today”, Harry says in a low voice, not able to hide his shame and obtain any dignity in it. “I don’t think any apologize will be enough.”

“I forgave you already, remember?”, Eggsy replies, a little frantic perhaps though his tone is demanding. “Now tell me what happened.”

Harry lets his head fall gently back into the white, stiff pillow.

“When I woke up and realized, that I had hurt you that awfully...”, he swallows, biting on his lips. Then he returns to Eggsy’s gaze. “It’s frightening to loose control over yourself, I think you might recognize. And it’s horrifying to see that you hurt someone you deeply care for while that happened. And now look at you..”

His face tenses, frowning deeply when pointing his eyes at Eggsy’s split lip and cheek bone, the bruising now having flowered to its full size. 

“And then, I did the wrong thing and took the vicodin, because I thought this was some kind of odious nightmare still. I’m so sorry Eggsy”, Harry explains further, placing his hand on top of the younger man’s. “I was so weak in that moment. I didn’t want it to be true.”

“You’re not weak”, Eggsy disagrees with a rather cold voice, before he can take a deep breath and tries to pull himself together. He knows that he should probably be angry at Harry for endangering himself and breaking his ‘promise’ to care for him. He really should be angry that Harry let himself go like that, to endanger his life just after Eggsy’s got him back, but Eggsy has no right to put claim on Harry’s life. He knows that far too well.  
After all they’ve been through, he thinks, being angry would be wasted time. He can forgive Harry here and now without wasting any energy on being sour, and that’s a relieving feeling. Because the burden of being cross is always to do better instead an he is in fact not better than Harry. 

He made the same mistake, he received the same salvation.

“You are broken. You are human, just like me”, he says, looking down on their hands and overlaying fingers. “You took too much vicodin, deliberately or not - I really don't care. And now you’re going to be okay.”

Harry looks at him slightly baffled, still pulling himself together to fully comprehend Eggsy’s uncomplicated and unattached forgiveness. 

“And”, Eggsy says, looking up to Harry again, “you don’t owe me anything. You repaid for whatever you argued you owed my dad, but you don’t owe me anythin’. Not even getting your shit together.”

“This is not an equation with integer factors”, Harry sighs, but he looks less sad than before. “Guilt underlies subjective judgement and I, my dear boy, very much think that I failed horrendously, even if you play it down with all your admirable kindness.”

A incredibly small, very fond smile grows on his exhausted face. Barely a twitching of the corners of his mouths.

“You saved my life.”

“I know”, Eggsy retorts, “and as a thank you, you puked on me.” 

He sounds that childishly upset that Harry can’t suppress a shy smile, but he immediately turns away to hide it.

Eggsy smiles too, far more shortly, and wets his lips.

“Okay, you should sleep some, yeah? Merlin and Roxy went hart on ya. I’m going home and wipe up your digestions up the floor, and tomorrow I’ll come back, okay?”

“You are too good”, Harry murmurs, but can’t help a relieved sigh. 

“Silly old man”, Eggsy grumbles, jumps off the bed and leaves for the door. “See ya tomorrow.”

They had settled this, but right now, he realizes, he needs some distance from Harry to clear his mind. He will see him tomorrow again and then they can work on what the hell is going on with them and how they can work to make it better. 

Oh dear boy, he is so wrong.

Merlin catches him in the hallway before he can leave HQ and orders him into his office, where they sit down face to face in the same arrangement that always reminds Eggsy of   
his appointments with Dr. Fischer.

“What an unfortunate morning”, Merlin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Eggsy can only agree, sensing something more in the air.

Merlin comes straight to he point. “Who did this to you?”, he asks, pointing his chin at Eggsy’s face and the distinct marks of last night. And Eggsy knows he won’t take any lies, he already has a heavy suspicion and only needs affirmation.

“He didn’t hit me”, Eggsy snorts, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Defensive body language again, he thinks of himself, but he doesn’t care. “T’was an accident.”

“Accident?”, Merlin asks sharply pronounced. 

Eggsy tries to judge how much he’s ought to tell Merlin. And how much the Scot already knows of Harry’s state; and of course what he will do about it.

“He’s got nightmares”, Eggsy finally breathes out, swiping a hand across his tired face. “He’s screaming all over the house, I tried to wake him and got his fist across my cheek.” 

Merlin doesn’t look impressed at all, his frown just darkens.

“For god’s sake, Merlin, it wasn’t his fault!”, Eggsy tries again. “He was devastated when he saw what he did, and took the goddamn vicodin.”

The bald man sighs deeply and purses his lips. “Why didn’t he tell me of this? His nightmares?”, he asks eventually, his voice trembling with anger. Eggsy doesn’t answer. He flinches, when Merlin jumps up from his chair and violently swipes half of the things in his desk onto the floor, where they clatter loudly and his coffee mug breaks.

“He’s been shitting at me for not having an eye on you”, Merlin rages, clasping his hands to keep them from breaking something else, “and now keeping secrets from me and drugging himself instead. FUCK THIS.” He throws another book of his desk.

“He’s just not okay, Merlin”, Eggsy tries to calm him, being perfectly calm himself. He felt like surrendering now, not having the energy to think about this and make himself worry even more. Sometimes a nice side-effect of being depressive.

“I know”, the older man replies, sitting down again in his hair and looking more defeated than ever before. His glare pointed to the mess next to his desk, he takes a deep breath.

“You’re moving out this evening.”

“What?”

Merlin looks up to him with narrowed eyes. “There’s no use in letting you live together. Harry’s endangering you both and not helping you to recover, it’s irresponsible.”

“I’m not moving out.” Eggsy shakes his head vehemently. He wouldn’t leave Harry because he’s gone bonkers, that’s not his style. They’re going to recover together or not at all.

“Oh come on, Eggsy, don’t stubborn now! This is a medical decision I’m making.”

“We had two fucking weeks, Merlin! Two fucking weeks, what were you expecting? That everything would be fine with a magic snap of your fingers? No no, this is bullshit.”

“You’re not making this decision”, Merlin replied, totally ignoring Eggsy’s sudden rage.

“You can’t make me go!”

“You very well know i can. It will be less dirty if you just go, pack your things and move back to your own flat. You can stay there or even at HQ, I don’t care as long as you’re far from Harry’s reach.”

“I won’t”, Eggsy says plainly, not willing to accept any of this bullshit. Him and Harry separated because either of them fucked up badly? The pattern was reoccurring.

Merlin looks at him without any mercy. “Then I’ll have Harry hospitalized in into psychiatric hospital and neither of us will see him for a very long time.”

“You wouldn’t, you’re his friend.”

“Yes, and he’s fucking ill, Eggsy. I can do this, I would be glad to because it would take a lot of weight off my shoulders for once! You two are the agents I worry about the most and you’re not even on fucking duty!”

“Fuck you”, Eggsy said solemnly and stood up from his chair. 

“You very well know he’s the reason for most of distress”, Merlin called after him, sounding angry and sad simultaneously.

“Fuck you”, Eggsy still whispered when he slammed the door shut.


	13. Moving out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy moves out of Harry's house and come to realize some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, hey guys, I'm lack so much time to write (and sleep) that updating might be rarer the next week(s?). I'm graduating from school this year, but so far you've all been so incredibly sweet and patient and I'm super super thankful for that!  
> Ya all rock!

Moving out of the house after living there for months feels like parting from a good friend - again. But less brutal. Eggsy puts his few things into a sport bag and leaves the key into the letter box after locking the door, that’s all. 

There will be no way he can come back after leaving, he knows the bitter truth. Harry dying and returning had been a wonder, but this phase of recovering in each others’ presence was over now and - in Merlin’s opinion - had failed tragically. 

The smell of vomit and Harry’s sweat follows him home, the flat he now has to call that because he is banished from his real one. Home has become Harry’s weird collection of butterflies and his silly apron hanging on a hook in the kitchen and the soft way the light falls through the living room windows. The night mares, the screams, too, but also Harry breathing so hard and vivid there was no hint he had ever been lying motionless on the yard in front of a church in Kentucky. 

His own flat, grey and with the minimum of furnishing one needs screams with silence. As the hours pass, Eggsy feels more and more haunted in this place, finding it looking like an isolation cell.

Eggsy remembers how he threw himself into the pillows of Harry’s guest bed, crying it all out: his fears, his loneliness and his total helplessness and insecurity. And now, when he found a way to help himself, to find at least some support and strength in the comfort Harry Hart who returned from fucking grave upon hearing his message, Merlin takes it from him again.

He won’t get the chance again to live that close to Harry, to see his disheveled hair in the morning and wear his ridiculously big jumpers. 

His grieve for all the lost possibilities seems more important right now than the fact that he actually very well knows how it potentially wouldn’t have worked out any longer. The hard disgusting truth is: they both have their issues. How can a hand-less man knot the other hand-less man’s shoe? 

Still, he doesn’t want to emerge from this shit on his own, or more specifically without Harry anymore.

Because Harry is after all not the romanticized version he’s created for himself. There’s no such thing as confidence and danger lingering in the air around him, he’s not always 100 percent sure of what he’s doing, he doesn’t carry a gun everywhere he goes, he’s not made of iron and steel, his humor isn’t dry and pointed, his voice isn’t dark and sexy.

What Harry Hart is and what he turned out to be is beautiful person. His hands are soft, he likes to talk a lot about the things dear to him, actually, and his voice is hoarse and throaty from time to time. He is not only a gentlemen, but a very warm, humble man, too, and beside that he’s full of pain and fear, and Eggsy can understand that so fully and hindered. Harry and his love for the small things, Harry and his rage and protectiveness. Harry who tries his best and doesn’t succeed. 

Eggsy sits still on his hard little couch in his grey and cold flat when it dawns to him. He’s fallen for Harry again. For a truer, gentler Harry, for Harry and his stupid disheveled hair and his tired, little smiles. 

And so we’ve come full circle, Eggsy thinks, burying his face in his hands. This is gonna hurt, maybe more than the first time, he thinks. He’s loosing control again, isn’t he? Falling and falling into just the next big disaster.

The disaster itself is calling him right now, as he knows by his phone vibrating in his pocket. 

“Hey Harry”, he answers it, his voice flat and hoarse with suppressed emotions and tired from the day.

“Hello Eggsy”, Harry Hart replies in the softest voice ever. He still sounds raw from sleeps and intubation, though. “Are you fine?”

“I am, just moved out of your house. Got it all for yourself again.”

“What a shame”, Harry sighs, “Merlin told me earlier.”

Eggsy doesn’t tell Harry that he thinks that this is bullshit, that they are good for each other and, at the other hand, they are not. And how he hates it all. 

“I told him to fuck off”, is all Eggsy says.

Harry chuckles and it brings a small smile to the younger man’s face. 

“I think he still might be right.”

“Because ya fucked up? Come on, Harry, it worked beautifully”, Eggsy replies, suddenly feeling the urge to brighten that little laugh up as much as he could. “You cooked and did the housework and made tea at the appropriate times while I vegetated on the couch. That’s my kind of labor division.”

Harry hummed softly into the speaker. “But that’s not all to it, is it?”, he asks more seriously then. “I’m calling to make good with you, take you out for dinner.”

“We’re good, ‘Arry. As I said, you owe me nothing.”

“Then let me take you out because I want it”, Harry rephrased with a little disagreeing noise. “Merlin has not forbidden us to see each other, has he?”

“He implied”, Eggsy snorted, already seeing them in one of those posh restaurants Harry probably prefers. And he doesn’t care about Merlin an the big stick up his arse. “What did ya have in mind?”

He realizes how careful his tone is. This shit just happened a few hours ago and already they are talking about eating out together. They should probably take some time and think about this but...oh, screw this. He had thought about it all too long, everything. And he ended up on top of Tower Bridge, so now he will do what his stomach tells him.

“I know a good place, if that’s enough information for you.”

“I trust your taste, wouldn’t have let you cook for me otherwise.”

“Perfect. I will not disappoint you.” 

From the tone of his voice, Eggsy almost waits for a little ‘again’ at the end of the sentence. 

“You won’t”, Eggsy says confidently. “But, fuck ‘Arry, get some rest, yeah? You just had an overdose of vicodin on empty stomach.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you”, Harry admits, his voice utterly neutral. “I’m so terribly sorry.”

“Yeah yeah, I know. Now get your arse healthy and back home and we’ll see, okay?”, Eggsy tries, pursing his lips to hide his grin. What a dork.

“I will see you Friday? 8 sharp at my house.”

“I’ll be there 8:30”, Eggsy chuckles back because he knows Harry all too well. “See you there, ex-flatmate.”

“Good night to you too, ex-flatmate.”

Eggsy ended the call and let himself fall back into the cushion. 

Suddenly, the world doesn’t seem to tilt towards its end that fast anymore.


	14. At Clapham Commons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry takes Eggsy out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the first very long chapter since the start I think!

He skips his appointment with Dr. Fischer today, because everything she knows and sees in his face, Merlin will know all too soon. She’s his extended arm and for the moment nowhere to be trusted.

Instead he goes to the cleaners and gets one of his favorite suits freshly cleaned and ironed. Charcoal grey and still perfectly fitting despite his lack of work-out which makes the trousers a little to slim sometimes. His attire doesn’t fit into the grim place, he thinks while snapping his cuff links shut on the crisp white shirt. And he hasn’t worn a suit in what feels like months and is actually just a tad more than two weeks. It hadn’t been necessary when living with Harry, sometimes he didn’t even feel like Harry would care if he wore the same hoodie for a year straight. 

He bought the ruby coloured tie months ago and never wore it until today. It’s still neatly packed in a black box and unfurling it finally gets Eggsy’s nervousness going. 

Meeting Harry today is stupid, Merlin prohibited him any contact with the man and Merlin’s not one to be gentle with offense. They should keep their heads low until the stir settles but no for heaven’s sake they were going to have posh dinner together with all the shit Harry liked and all the shit Eggsy could actually decipher and translate the names from the menu. 

But - like many times in his life - Eggsy thinks: fuck this; grabs his coat and scarf and gets into a fucking cab to drive to Harry’s house again. And that’s probably stupid too, because Merlin might have get him on CCTV but he could avoid that by not getting out of it at all and just wait for Harry. Yeah, that’s the plan.

He arrives sharply at 8:30 and stays inside the car. The house is gleaming warmly, light’s on in the kitchen and the master bedroom where Harry’s probably searching for a sock right now. 

Harry’s been sent home just a day ago but he looks surprisingly good when he opens the front door and steps outside. He’s dressed similar to Eggsy: long coat and underneath a dark suit and a matching tie. Eggsy’s heart gets louder with every step Harry makes toward the end of the driveway, until he pulls the handle and climbs into the cab.

“Good evening”, Harry says solemnly, taking Eggsy in for a moment with a suspicious look on his face before leaning in for a solid and slightly uncomfortable car-hug. 

“Good to see ya”, Eggsy replies. “Ya look good.”

Harry smells beautifully from cologne and a fresh shower. And that’s it, Eggsy knows, from now on he will pine over this man all the time and be frustrated as ever with his charms and smiles and incredibly good smell. He lingers a moment longer, because this is their reunion and shit, before he leans back to look at the older man expectantly.

“Four O Nine, please”, Harry tells the driver and the man starts the engine with a soft humming. Harry settles back, his legs crossed and hands intertwined on his knee and an attentive expression on his face. Eggsy takes a good look at his suit, a brilliant piece in a rich dark blue and a knotted tie. Eggsy’s never been a fan of those, but they look good on the older man.

He’s just getting started at the bulge of Harry’s chest underneath the shirt when the man turns his head to Eggsy. 

“It’s a fine place”, he says, sounding like small talk but there’s a fine glint in his eyes. “French restaurant, great chairs.”

“You know I hate french menus, ‘arry”, Eggsy pouts and has to turn away to hide his smile.

 

The chairs are, in fact, incredible. Dim light and wooden floor and relaxed atmosphere is great, but the chairs really kick ass. Harry breathes a little sigh when letting himself fall into one of those grey round, arse-embracing thrones of heaven. Eggsy leans back for a moment and feels like finding relieve in a good sit after a hard day of work on his legs. 

When he opens his eyes again, Harry is arching a brow at him with a smug smile.

A waiter comes, brings the menu Eggsy doesn’t care to throw a look at and returns with a bottle of wine Harry has ordered. 

“Order something for me”, Eggsy demands, pointing a finger at the pages Harry is browsing through. “Pasta or something, you’re taking me out.”

“More like fish”, Harry replies, throwing him a look over the rim of the menu. He takes a sip on the wine without breaking eye contact and Eggsy has to smile again at this incredible man. If he just hadn’t been vomiting all over his own fine bathroom floor almost a weak ago. 

Eggsy looks around in the restaurant and finds himself and Harry to be slightly overdressed, as always. The other guests sit in small groups on round wooden tables just like his and Harry’s, chatting quietly and sipping expensive wine. The street outside the tall windows is dark probably an back alley, the only movement comes from the waiters who are wandering around like ghost with small smiles on their lips. 

Harry’s talking to his waiter now in a muffled voice, using his hands to emphasize how he likes his bass and how he would like Eggsy’s salmon to be served. Eggsy doesn’t care about fish today, he cares about the swift movement of Harry’s fingers. 

“What have you been doing all week?”, Harry asks when the waiter disappears to the background. 

“’been taking Daisy from daycare to the park and back to mum, getting things to the cleaners. Not much, to be honest.”

“Me neither”, Harry replies. 

“Nightmares?”, Eggsy asks. He earns a scolding look for it, as if it wouldn’t fit into the conversation now, but Harry answers after all.

“Bearable.” 

They both know he’s lying, at least he can’t shit Eggsy with this stuff. 

“Daisy’s been asking for ya”, Eggsy says, “She asked if ya will be coming round for tea and she can show you her new hot wheels.” 

It brings a smile back to Harry’s face, that kind people wear when being reminded of their favorite movie or a great book they’ve read recently. A good experience that still lives on in their mind and will do for a far longer time.

“We will see”, Harry says eventually. “You may give her a warm greeting.”

“Yeah, I’ll translate that to ‘toddler’.”

“A hug then.”

“Better”, Eggsy says and takes another sip from his wine. Harry likes it dry and stale apparently. 

They’re food arrives quickly and tastes unsurprisingly good. They swap plates once to taste the others food and it reminds Eggsy of their silent, comfortable dinners when Harry cooked for them both at his house and the silent darker hours after that.

When the plates are gone and Harry orders a different wine, already chuckling a bit more than usual over Eggsy’s jokes and Eggsy’s nervousness finally vanishes. They settle back into their comfy chairs, a wine glass in the one hand and a content, shy smile on their faces. 

“We’re good”, Eggsy sighs, taking every little bit of Harry in. 

“You said it before but I’m always glad to hear it.”

Harry purses his lips shortly and lets go with a silent ‘plob’ while an innocent look settles on his face.

“Has Merlin talked you into working again?”

“Haven’t talked to Merlin all week”, Eggsy replies, playing with the rim of his glass under his fingertips. “Did ya expect that though?”

Harry hems, circling his delicate fingers into a fist. “It’s always been a habit of his to defy the lack of sleep and energy from working hard with working even harder. I halfway expected him to - you know - not fieldwork obviously, but maybe some lighter things.”

“Ya picture me as his secretary right now, ain’t ya?” 

Harry smirks and Eggsy would like to call it a dirty one.

“I would certainly come in more often with you sitting behind the counter. But right now Merlin won’t talk to me unless it’s of medical interest.”

“I bet he’s over it in a week, ‘Arry”, Eggsy says, trying to ensure the other man. “Just send him a bottle of scotch or sumthin’.”

“We’ve known each other for a long time”, Harry says in a soft voice, almost caressing the memory. “Long enough for me to know his favors can not be purchased.”

“He still luvs ya. You got back together after I..”, he hesitates. They never really spoke of that night again, did they? Neither did they pretend it didn’t happen, but speaking the words still made his tongue go all clumsy.

“Almost jumped”, Harry says with dry clarity.

“Yeah, you we’re good after some days. So you’ll be good again, just let him have his while”, Eggsy shrugs and gulps down the rest of his wine. “Besides your not really doing anything in your favor right now. Ya know, taking me to some posh place to show off and drugging me.”

Harry’s brows arch immediately. “Showing off?”

“Yeah, why else French?”

“Maybe because it tastes heavenly?”

“Maybe because you wanna flaunt?”, Eggsy snatches. Harry looks at him, calculating him precisely. “You struck down four guys in the pub back then. Left-handed. Ya just wanted to show me ya pecs.”

And then something beautiful happens. It’s short and bright and Eggsy almost drops his jaw into his shoes when Harry begins to blush and hides his face behind the hand holding the wine glass. The little lines on his mouth that lie flat normally, break into wrinkles that shape an entirely new face. A delighted, intoxicated and slightly embarrassed expression and a nearly inaudible cough.

“You’re fucking blushing”, Eggsy snorts unbelievingly.

“You’ve seen me worse, I suppose”, Harry answers, straightening himself while after gaining back his normal face.

God that’s beautiful. Eggsy hopes he hasn’t said this out loud, but he’s to stunned to care and then he remembers he’s supposed to make conversation, not stare at Harry and make him feel uncomfortable. He sticks to the wine instead, pouring himself another glass and offering to Harry who declines politely.

“I wanted to tell you something, actually”, Harry says and settles his glass back down on the table. “Maybe you’ll drink up and we take a walk down the street to the common?”

Harry’s smile is tempting and Eggsy feels it all over again. The longing, the despair, the warmth and the cold when he thinks of disappointing Harry. 

“Sure”, he just says, his insides turning themselves up and down.

 

It’s chilly outside but they’ve got their coats and so they can walk down the high street without shivering in the wind, hands buried in their pockets and the background too loud to have a decent conversation. Eggsy looks down at their feet, his shoes entering and leaving his sight, Harry’s in the corner of his eyes. He can hear Harry breathing if he listens carefully and misses the few nights he lay beside him, excited by the deep breaths the older man drew.

They enter the park 10 minutes later, only a few couples strolling around the grounds and snogging each other on the few benches. 

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you, I’m sure you have noticed...somehow”, Harry begins when they come to stand at the brink of a small pond.

Eggsy just waits, stiff and numbed by the expectation. Serious voice, wanting to tell him something, personal stuff clearly, emotional perhaps. Eggsy’s just gonna breath through it, close his eyes maybe.

“The night you called me...in fact the very first moment I saw you or when we sat in the car, somewhere in between that, ah”, Harry sighs, lowering his head between his shoulders. 

Please don’t, Eggsy thinks, I can’t cope. He knows what’s to come, it’s like in the movies. And he knows how to react, but he’s sure his body won’t play along with any of this. This can’t be real.

Harry turns around to him, pulling his eyebrows together the tiniest bit. He’s considering, drawing deep breaths between them and the fucking light comes from behind above so perfectly to put his face into a darker shade. Eggsy can’t fucking breathe. But he has to.

“I remembered you and the warmth you brought to my life, back then just as to this present day.”

A small, uncertain smile, soonly taken off by the frown again. 

“I want to restart, Eggsy”, he mumbles, looking down at his shoes and back up to Eggsy who’s staring at him with his lips slightly parched and waiting for his end to come. This man makes him go to hell and back again in the blink of an eye, and there’s nothing Eggsy can do.

“I am done with my...rather graceless heart”, Harry sighs. 

“Don’t say that”, Eggsy breathes, startled again by the soft, sad expression in the older man’s eyes. And Harry turns his head slightly, looking at the younger man suspiciously, but so fond it almost makes Eggsy’s chest burst.

“I’ve spend years building walls. I haven’t been a man of many close friends or great gentleness - until now. You make it so easy for me, my dear boy.”

He’s going to say it now and Eggsy’s not ready. He’s not ready to fall into this again, to give himself up so entirely for a feeling. Harry’s gonna say it, say the crucial words in his perfect voice with his perfect lips and Eggsy’s going to die. Right here, in the Clapham Common. He’s not ready to be overwhelmed again, to be thrown off his feet.

Eggsy shrugs, trying to shake it off. “You makin’ me blush now, old man.”

There’s the half split second where Harry’s body tilts, where he looks like he’s going to lean in and get into Eggsy’s personal space and Eggsy knows he can’t let that happen. He’s going to melt in Harry’s hands and that’s all he’s afraid of.

But he can’t just stand there: hands in his pockets, scarf tightly wrapped around his neck and Harry being his exact, but older mirror in clothing and body language. It took this fucking man three fucking weeks to make him mad again all over with his longings, and it’s not fair. Eggsy wants to scream out in frustration.

Instead, he pulls Harry into a tight embrace, burying his face in the older man’s shoulder. The wool of their coats disguises Harry’s forms and the shape of his arms on Eggsy’s back. Eggsy breathes in and exhales slowly. Harry’s cheek lies on his temple, his lips press against the soft skin shortly before he wraps a hand around Eggsy’s neck and puts his chin on the younger man’s head.

So this is how he is going to die, Eggsy thinks, not from jumping off a bridge and not from a bullet to the head but by Harry caring for him so fully and warmly and admitting to it with all his heart. Eggsy’s not selfish enough to let more than this happen, to make it even more difficult to control his body and his brain. 

There are moments in life when we have to choose who we want to be. We’re not going to be that in a matter of seconds or days or even months. We just decide and from then on it’s our goal to become, to grow and change. How we picture ourselves forms how we act and what we say and what we decide to believe. 

Eggsy pulls away and stares at Harry with a frowning expression. This ain’t how he wants it to be. He doesn’t want to be weak and having to be cared for, he doesn’t want Harry giving any more parental kisses on the forehead and tugging him in so Eggsy can lay down a minute on his shoulder and escape reality for some time. 

Eggsy wants to control. His body, himself, his feelings and actions. He wants to control the way he looks to Harry and control the things dragging him down. Pity is what he despises, getting scolded by Merlin and being questioned by his therapist. 

Harry’s eyes darken slightly, his pupil dilated by the lack of light.

Eggsy wants to take control over Harry, make him mad, make him want Eggsy and make him love him back. Make him immortal, make him a monument to mankind.

He wants Harry to love him for his strength and ambition and energy. 

When he will kiss him someday, he will be full and there and not just a shadow of his former self. Caring for Harry is what he wants, helping him through his nightmares and hold him when necessary because that’s what Harry deserves. Eggsy wants to work again, prove himself, kick ass in the field with Roxy. 

“Looks like we both are daring a new beginning then”, Eggsy says, swallowing down the lump in his throat. 

There isn’t really much left to say. Harry’s eyes are screaming with fondness and his face is so soft and his lips are twitching with amusement and surprise. Eggsy could watch this forever, but preferably in a warmer place than the park.

They hail a cab and drop Harry at his house, where they part with a gentle squeeze of their hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been playing with the idea of changing the POV to Harry at some point of time. It's nothing set yet, tell me what you think of it all!  
> luv


	15. What a suit can do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry invites Eggsy to his favourite tailor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, it's been a while. I was very distracted with school and my volunteering, also I got into some kind of writer's block which I successfully killed through writing angsty one-shots. I'm trying to be more reliable, but I can't promise.  
> all the love

Eggsy’s washing dishes when Harry calls.

“How fast can you be in the city?”

“Good morning to ya too, Haz.”

“Don’t call me that”, Harry snorts in restrained amusement.

“Okay.”

“How fast?”

“Don’t kna, 20 minutes maybe. 25 with the tube.”

Harry hums disagreeingly. “Take a cab then.”

Eggsy frowns and squeezes the phone between his shoulder and ear, to have his hands free for the dishes. “Why, anyways?”

“Well, you obviously need a new suit.”

“Obviously”, Eggsy imitates, getting a little bit annoyed by Harry’s impatient tone. His suits look fine, or doesn’t Harry agree? 

“I mean non-bulletproof suits. I’m always getting paranoid when someone is more heavily armored than me on civil occasions. Besides, my favourite tailor just restocked on patterns, we’ll find something for you with ease.”

“I have suits, Haz”, Eggsy says again lazily just to tease Harry, who seems a bit too excited for fucking fabrics. “The black one from graduation and...”

“Oh, get your arse into a cab already, for heaven’s sake”, Harry scolds and ends the call, leaving Eggsy chuckling to himself and putting his phone away.

He puts a blank white shirt and a pair of brown trousers on, leaving the shirt untucked. 

Eggsy checks his wallet, too, before he leaves. 50 quid and some change, debit card with another 400 pounds on it and it’s the end of the months so he’ll get around with buying a new suit. Normally, 500 pounds a month go straight to Daisy’s deposit account, sometimes more, another 1200 to his mum and often he books them both a holiday. But because this month he’s not been on missions and therefore hasn’t gotten the ‘mission bonus’, his basic income didn’t cover his expenses as neatly as he wanted to. He had to pay for two flats, two electricity and water bills, kindergarten and his mom’s studies.

Rethinking it all, basically he had about -500 pounds for new clothing. But he did say he’d come now, it’s too late.

Harry waits for him in the lounge, similar to the couches in the shop in Savile Row. The tailor’s also just as antique but there’s a lot more going on. More people buzzing around, young women taking measurements, young man carrying rolls of fabric from the back of the shop.

“Monday”, Harry shrugs as he greets him and gives him a tight embrace. He’s looking dapper as ever, clothed in a more extravagant piece of charcoal-grey fabric in form of a slim jacket, a waist coat and a striped tie. 

“Looks fancy as shit”, Eggsy breathes while taking a quick look around the shop, feeling incredibly underdressed. “This is your favourite?”

“Besides Kingsman, yes. I didn’t feel like I should be seen there too often in the moment, especially not in your company. We’ll wait till the tidal waves to subside. Still - you need a suit.”

“Harry, I don’t know if this is my place...”

Harry overgoes his comment and waves a man Eggsy’s age to the lounge.

“Eggsy, this is Martin. He’ll take your measurements.” There is no room for discussion left in his voice so Eggsy stuffs his fists into his pockets and follows Martin into one of the fitting rooms. They are less furnished and a lot brighter than the ones at Savile Row but after all this was a real fucking tailor.

“If you would step out of your trousers, Mr. Hart.”

“Mr. Unwin, actually.”

“Oh, excuse me, Sir. I mistook Mr. Hart for your father.”

Eggsy kicks off his shoes, opens his buttons and lets the brown trunks fall down to his feet to step out of them.

“He’s more of my mentor. Makes me wear suits at work, ya kna?”

Martin smiles while unrolling his measuring tape. “You work at the financial department, too?”

Yeah, because obviously the tailor-show doesn’t work when your at another tailor. So Eggsy’s not a tailor apprentice today, he’s a going-to-be-business-man. Doesn’t sound too exciting, though.

“Uh, don’t ask me out on that, mate. Still pretty confusing.”

Martin hums knowingly and takes the measurements from Eggsy’s shoulder to his wrist and quickly after that from the top of his shoulder to his armpit.

“I’ve spent some time there I started the job.”

“I see, you’re more of a touchy guy”, Eggsy teases, because fuck this guy is nice and quite charming. Makes him always sad about not buying a suit in the end. In fact, Martin does not touch him once. His fingers gaze ever so slightly over his skin, but it’s almost like breath or a wind.

“Of course, and Mr. Hart only brought you hear so you could strip down for a cause”, Martin shoots back with a silent raised brow. Eggsy almost chokes on the next joke he was going to make. 

“No, no, it’s not like that.”

Martin looks up to him with a light frown. He’s not in the position to make any suggestions but Eggsy is an easy chap to be around, especially with jokes. “Not yet”, he remarks and continues at the inseam of Eggsy’s thigh.

He can dress himself again after that, but only for a few minutes he knows. He joins Harry in the lounge, who has crossed his legs delicately and stares out of the shop window with a frown. Only when Eggsy comes along, his expression brightens up to a small smile.

“This is really posh”, Eggsy tries again and Harry shushes him in an instant.

“Don’t think about that yet, we’ll have to decide for a pattern first. And what kind of suit, of course.”

Eggsy lets himself be lead to the counter with Harry’s hand on the small of his back and takes a good look on the patterns and fabrics he has obviously no knowledge of. And no taste, he thinks. Charcoal like Harry’s could be good, light grey, whatever. So he just points his finger randomly at something while slouching over the table.

“Beige isn’t you colour, my dear boy”, Harry says immediately and shakes his head with concern. “I’ve never seen anyone who could wear it, in fact. Except for the former Lancelot.”

“Roxy can rock that, too”, Eggsy replies and browses through another stack. “But you made me come here, what do you think I need?”

Harry looks at him like he needs a lesson in faking interest in important topics and at least a good pinch in the arse. Ah, there we go, imagining Harry teasing him sexually, Eggsy thinks and lower his gaze from the older man.

“How about a Stresemann?”

“That’s this posh think, right?”

“Yes, first established at the conference of Locarno in between the great wars and named after an significant german Imperial Cancellor..”

“I thought that was Hitler.”

Harry rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue overdramatically. It’s a tiny bit sexy.

“No, Hitler came...”, he sighs, “...later. The Stresemann is - as I said - a very formal attire, and as you remarked, proper for gala dinners until the early evening.”

“So like a lunch-suit?”

“For example.” Harry lets his hands slide over the fabrics. “The trousers are grey-striped, you get a grey waist coat and a long, black jacket. A tailcoat, to be exact.”

“Harry”, Eggsy tries again, “I’m never gonna attend any kind of gala in my life. They’re not even...” He looks around before he continues in a lower voice. “Bulletproof. I’ll never need one in civil.”

Harry tilts his head a bit and looks Eggsy straight in the eye. His voice is just as low when he answers. “What if I plan to take you to such an event?”

“I would hate it?”, Eggsy suggest. The pleb with the posh people? That would be a disaster. But a funny one, at least.

There’s the fine glint in Harry’s eyes again. “You’d love it.” 

Eggsy stands his eyes for another moment, then he gives in and looks down at his shoes. “Yeah yeah, you got me”, he murmurs. “But only to make some big ass posh guys shit their pants.”

“With your charms, I hope”, Harry says.

“Do I need a top hat, too?”

“Only if I were going to take you to Ascot”, Harry replies, looking around for Martin. “Which I might.”

 

“You said he always wear them like this?”, Eggsy says, pinching at the fabric on his arse.

Martin shrugs helplessly. “He told me to make them for you the way he likes them.”

“It’s a literal fucking pain in the ass”, Eggsy huffs, letting it go and instantly feeling the urge to pull on it again. It fits, perfectly, but it’s cupping his butt cheeks in a way he can’t really appreciate yet.

“I must say, Mr. Hart has fine buttocks and likes to show them.” He shrugs again.

“Thank you, Martin”, a voice growls from the door and the young tailor flinches. “You can go.”

Martin nods, leaves and makes place for Harry to enter the room. Eggsy’s just buttoning up his waist coat and trying to hide what Harry’s voice might or might not have made visible in his groin.

“Are you satisfied?”

Eggsy turns around to his former mentor and rolls his eyes. “Satisfied? It’s a fucking suit, Harry, not a life goal.”

Harry makes a disagreeing sound and steps back to take another good look at his friend’s figure. “Stresemann suits you perfectly.”

“I’m never gonna wear it, Harry”, Eggsy arguments, but all hope is lost. Harry shakes his head vehemently. “And I have to be at HQ in half an hours.”

Eggsy frowns and shakes his head.

“Okay, that was a lie, but I really really don’t want it, okay?”

Harry looks at him without caring to utter a word. He frowns, then his frown turns into anger. Still silent, he grabs the jacket from a mannequin and gets Eggsy inside it, buttons him up personally and straightens the layers of fabric without great gentleness. He drives a hand through Eggsy’s careless hair and makes him turn around to the mirror.

“Fucking look at you, Eggsy.”

Yeah, he looks good. His shoulders look less hung, his breast less dominant and bully because of the long jacket. It’s a fine look, something one could marry in. 

“Harry”, Eggsy begins and opens the buttons again. Harry just stands there, built like stone, and watches him with silent disagreement. “I can’t.”

He steps down the podium and slips out of the jacket. “Daisy’s kindergarten bill hasn’t even arrived yet, I can’t spend a thousand pounds on a suit.”

Harry’s mouth is a perfectly shapes o, when he realizes. 

“And me mum’s university wants money for her tube ticket again”, Eggsy murmurs while hanging it back on the mannequin. “Not this month.”

“I’m sorry”, Harry says after a few moments. “I thought it was clear I would...give it to you.”

Eggsy looks up to meet the older man’s gaze. “No, not really.” Because that changes a lot and explains Harry’s excitement and careful choosing perfectly. 

“Oh”, Harry says again and runs a hand over his face. “So, yes, this was going to be a gift. I should have said it, shoudn’t I?”

“You thought I was rejecting it just because then, yeah?”, Eggsy asks. 

They both stare at each other for a moment, then a knock interrupts the mood. It’s Martin, they know, and both rush to the door to open it, knock into each other and excuse again. 

“Please take it”, Harry murmurs against his hear and slips past the younger man to pull down the handle.   
Martin comes in - before Eggsy can object the fucking price of one of these suits - with a chart of numbers and some more pins he elegantly doesn’t inject into Eggsy’s skin until everything is fitting perfectly.

“You look dapper”, Harry comments from the side.

“Dapper as hell”, Eggsy corrects and throws his friend a smile. It’s really fucking nice of him and Harry’s looks ensure him that he’ll take no ‘no’ for an answer.

Harry puts a black silk tie on the counter when he is about to pay - something he surely picked out while Eggsy had his measurements taken - and Eggsy looks at him frowningly throughout the whole credit card sliding process.

“Don’t look at me like that”, Harry says, handing Eggsy the tie in a small bag, “I’m having Martin make another suit, a less formal one.”

“You’re my death”, Eggsy says, sighing heavily. 

“You provide for your family”, Harry says while holding the door open for him, “and I provide for mine.”

 

So, they’re a family then. Little fucked up relatives or what, Eggsy tries to figure out over his lunch with Harry at the Pakistani. From Mentor and protégé to friend to family? What the fuck.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think of that earlier, and that I have made you uncomfortable.”

“You mean my financial situation.”

“Yes, indeed.”

Eggsy observes the fine line around Harry’s eyes. He doesn’t look like a guy who ever had problems with money. Always flowing easy in, easy out. No worries, no spending cuts. 

This is weird, because Eggsy never knew a moment in his life where money hadn’t been table topic and not a single day from age 11 he didn’t try to earn some. For mum, later for Daisy, later for some drugs or his driver’s license. Sometimes working for little money, sometimes robbing tabacco stores, sometimes more extreme measures.

“’s just this month, ‘cuz I’m not on missions.”

Harry keeps looking at him with concerns and if that isn’t making Eggsy uncomfortable he doesn’t know what is.

“When I came back”, he starts slowly, “I found that you hadn’t touched my heritage.”

“I occupied your house”, Eggsy replies, pointing at Harry with his fork. “Rubbed my naked arse all over your old ass furniture.”

Harry doesn’t move a muscle. “Why didn’t you take the money?”

“Becaaause”, Eggsy explains, “we knew each other for some months, Harry. This was for like, ya family. Ya siblings or nieces or...”, he tilts his head suspiciously, “...children?”

Harry shakes his head. 

“Ex-wifes?”

Harry snorts but still looks distressed. “Everything was taken care of.”

So maybe he was married, or he wasn’t? No real answer here, old man, Eggsy thought.

“’s all fine, Harry, we get around. Better than ever, thanks to you getting me the job.”

“Thanks to you being so goddamn good at it, you mean.”

Eggsy eats his chicken while letting that sink in and drinks his still hot tea. His own living expenses had always been very very low. A pair of trainers every second year, all his other stuff was Kingsman issued to this day - even his underwear. His flat was almost empty but he was used to it, didn’t need anything better.

Harry’s house had been nice, though. He’d like to have something like that too, someday, except for the dead animals in every corner. And he liked the luxury of living without his mum. Coming home when he wanted, or when he needed to after a mission. A bloody and messed up.

“Did you mean that, earlier?”

“What?” Harry looks up at him again, his forehead wrinkling suspiciously.

“That we’re like family.”

“Yes, definitely”, Harry says a little too fast. “I mean, for me it feels like it. I don’t know about you.”

Eggsy looks down at his plate again. Don’t be little, don’t be scared, he says to himself, Harry wants to be your family, fucking let him. “I’m good with that.” He looks up and gifts his friend with a assuring smile. But it doesn’t convince his the older man.

Because Harry isn’t smiling, he isn’t relieved. He knew it, he knew that Eggsy would see it that way which is scary because Eggsy isn’t that sure himself. Can you shag family? Can you make love to family? Mostly it’s like friends to lovers, lovers to family. Are they degrading now? Family to lovers to friend? Oh fuck. Eggsy’s mind’s going in circle and he roams his plate empty so he doesn’t have to look at Harry which isn’t making anything better right now.

He really wants to kiss Harry right now, kiss the shit eating grin of his lips and press his hips against Harry’s. Instead, they leave after they’ve finished and part at the tube station so Eggsy can get his sister from kindergarten.


	16. Back to Business

The door to the shop opens with the familiar ringing sound and Roxy comes in. She lowers her Umbrella and concentrates on not getting the freezing rain on everything in the lobby before she sees Eggsy and throws the thing away.

“You”, she screams happily and tugs Eggsy, who’s leaning at the counter and enjoying a small chat with Jeremy before getting to HQ, in a tight embrace.  
“What are you doing here?”

“Can’t let you kick all the bad boy’s ass alone”, he smirks.

“I prefer female villains nowadays”, Roxy replies, ordering her suit again and taking a step back. “They’re not nearly as sociopathic.”

“You’ll end in bed with one sooner or later, I warn ya”, Eggsy chuckles and grabs his coat and leather bag from where he dropped them on one of the green leather couches. 

“I’m serious by the way. What are you doing here? Do you want to return to work fully?”

Eggsy shrugs and they both turn to fitting room two. “Thought about getting back into business step by step, not overworking. Sitting ‘round gets boring, ya know.”

“You weren’t bored with Harry.”

“Can’t deny that.”

They enter the capsule and Eggsy is as always surprised by the short length of the ride getting them 40 miles outside of town. HQ is a mess as always: maybe now even more agents and technicians and some of Merlin’s minions are running around the corridors, people lean out they’re office door and yell across the floor with moderate volume. They walk past the handler’s office, where quite a few professionals sit and talk into headphones with tense faces. No one’s in the gym though, at least nobody’s in the training rooms one can see from the hallway through the glass walls, and the biggest conference room is also abandoned.

“See who I brought”, Roxy says cheerfully when they enter Merlin’s office. The bald man looks up from the sheets he’s holding in his hands and glances at them over the rim of his black glasses.

“Surprise, surprise”, he replies no less happy to see Eggsy. The young agent immediately feels a tad guilty for keeping secrets from him but after all: Merlin is no god, not even a doctor. Well, maybe, Eggsy doesn’t know for real. And yes, oh fuck, he skipped his therapy session. That’s for sure something he will have to justify.

“Good to be here again”, Eggsy states and lets Roxy pull him into a side-hug again. 

“We’ll see each other later, yeah?”, she asks and waits for his nod to give him a kiss on the cheek and leave again, whistling some Bond theme.

“She really misses you”, Merlin says with a sigh and pulls off his glasses to put them away in the breast pocket of his jumper. 

“Ya, I know.” Eggsy flattens his suit again before sitting down where Merlin points his finger at one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Before we’re talking about work; why didn’t you visit Dr. Fischer?”

“Err, I didn’t feel comfortable with her?”, Eggsy suggests which is basically the truth. She was weird, somehow, and he didn’t trust her discretion. Besides he was occupied with being worried about his meeting with Harry, but that was nothing of the Scot’s business right now.

Merlin swallows thickly. “That’s no problem at all”, he says, “you just have to tell me. We can find you another therapist or maybe we’ll just check you through in the medical again for organic disturbances. Thyroid, brain, hormones...you know, run some test and see how fit you are.”

“Wouldn’t hurt”, Eggsy answers. He’s not looking forward to it but it’s quite a good idea, more thought-through this time.

“How are you now?”

“After moving out?” Eggsy can’t hide the offended tone of his voice. Merlin gives him a long, considering look before he clenches his jaw and sighs.

“I’m sorry I had to separate you, I truly am, Eggsy. Still, I think it’s for the better. And I understand that you need someone to focus your anger on, but please, as everything of emotional matter, keep this out of work.”

“All right”, Eggsy says, more honestly this time.

Merlin nods, glazing over him one last time.

“Good, then let’s get you to the medical wing.”

 

They do a lot of tests down there, and they don’t talk much while doing them so Eggsy get’s bored while the docs attach the electrodes of the EEG to his head. He has to close his eyes, open them again and is send to another doctor to check his vision. They take his blood, urine, do a physical fitness test whose results weren’t like Eggsy would have liked them to be and they test his reflexes.

“Looks good”, Merlin says after looking at he results. “Cholesterol and body fat increased in the last few month but not worryingly. You’re fit.”

“Could use some training I suppose”, Eggsy says after putting back on his shirt.

“Lancelot waits for you at the gym.”

 

She does. And Roxy’s well prepared. Physical superiority is nothing to her and his pure muscle mass is just a small advantage in relation to Eggsy’s diminished fatigue. They’re doing hand to hand combat before they take a small break and go for a run around the estate where Eggsy thanks God or genetics for his longer legs so he doesn’t look as much as an newbie as before.

And after training and letting go of some steam Eggsy didn’t know that had gathered in him, Merlin shows him around in the tech department. 

The ‘tech-cave’ is basically an office with hyper-high-standard electronics, nerdy handlers of whom Eggsy new only a small part until this day and like a thousand empty cups of coffee standing around.

“I thought it might be good to give you an additional education focusing on the background of each mission. It will certainly also help you in the field, later”, Merlin explains and sits Eggsy down in front of a respectively small computer. Only two flat screens next to each other, a keyboard, a tracking pad and pen. 

“I’ll get José, he’ll explain our programmes to you.”

José is Brazilian, wears pair of extremely smart-looking glasses and spits while speaking. He is nice, though, and explains the GPS system and how Eggsy can find specific coordinates. Eggsy knows that this is only a speck of dust of what he would have to learn in order to become a handler, but it’s definitely not wasted knowledge.

He meets with Roxy for lunch again and they talk a bit. Roxy doesn’t want to talk about Harry, because she is still angry about the drug incident, but she tells him a lot of probably classified information about her latest missions and the girl she got to met undercover in Rome last week. 

“I just couldn’t believe it”, she murmurs between two spoons of soup, “they’ve got the aura of actual goddesses.”

“And you didn’t bring one home this time?”, Eggsy winks at her and she snorts in response.

“I’m leaving tonight for Rio, Eggsy. I don’t want to come back and have an Italian lady redecorating my whole apartment.”

“There is nothing to redecorate”, Eggsy reminds her. “There’s this big spy conference next month, isn’t it? Ye could look for a girl there.”

“The Secret Intelligence meeting in Toronto?”

“Yeah, sumthin’ like that. You know who’s in the delegation?”

“Merlin is going to announce his ‘chosen ones’ next week”, she chuckled. “He told me I’ll be safe in for that. If you’re in, too, it could get funny.”

“Yeah, probably. I hope they’re not all like Chester, though.”

“Better pack some fountain pens”, she wriggles her brows.

 

After he goes home quite a bit later than planned and receives the last text of Roxy on her transatlantic flight, Eggsy lies down on his bed and stares at the ceiling. He is tired, but something didn’t feel right. He flips his phone in his hand and unconsciously hacks in the first three digits of Harry’s number in.

Maybe Harry is having dreams again. He would hit himself in his sleep and probably cry loud enough for the neighbors to hear him. Eggsy can’t bear the thought and how real it feel although they live on opposite parts of the city.

Eggsy calls the number and waits impatiently for the dialing tone. It takes a minute for Harry to answer the phone, but he sounds calm if not sleepy.

“Eggsy”, Harry says in a rough voice that has Eggsy imagine the older man’s sleep-ruffled hair.

“Hey...”, he replies uncertainly. “Just wanted to check if you...ya know...sleep well.”

There was a pause, long enough for the doubt to grow.

“Please don’t lie to me, Harry.”

Harry clears his throat and Eggsy hears the bed springs when Harry rolls around on the mattress.

“My knuckles hurt like hell, but I’m not going to flick the light on”, the older man sighs.

“You probably hit something.”

“Probably...”

“Should I come around?”, Eggsy asks, biting his lip. His heart jumps when he hears Harry chuckling. “I could bring something to eat.”

“It’s fine, really.” Harry takes as deep breath and Eggsy can hear him swallow heavily. “How was your day?”

The older man doesn’t sound as if he’s going to fall asleep any time soon, so hesitatingly Eggsy tells him of his day and his encounter with Merlin. 

“Merlin asked me to come to the shop, too. Tomorrow, if I am not mistaken.” 

“I suppose you’ll go.”

“Well”, Harry sighs and turns around in bed again, “he’s finally talking to me again. I should not waste the opportunity.”

Eggsy listens to Harry’s quiet voice over the phone and finds strange comfort in it. They’re talking about nothing, really, and still: it makes him feel a little bit less insecure about where he is headed within Kingsman. Harry isn’t going to be on field duty again - because of stress or drugs or age, Eggsy doesn’t know for sure - and perhaps he’ll be named Arthur after some time. And then maybe Eggsy would have to face less pressure in choosing the right job, because being a handler had spooked around in his mind for some time now. 

“Did you ever think about being something else than a spy, Harry?”

Harry takes a moment to think about it. He probably weighs his answers, but in the end he is clear and straight forward.

“No. Never. I mean sure, as a child everyone has strange possibilities in mind, but since i was recruited at a very young age I never felt the need to think about it.”

Eggsy’s voice is dry and he really doesn’t want to ask Harry who possibly just woke from a night mare but on the other side he really wants to know. 

“Not even after Kentucky?”

To his relieve, Harry laughs just as dryly and makes disagreeing noises. “Field duty may be out for me but it’s too late to change the profession now. I do have a degree in English Literature, but I’m not going to become a professor now, if you understand what I mean.”

“Still you’re thinking about it.”

“Yes, I do probably.”

Eggsy puts his free hand on his stomach and closes his eyes. This wasn’t a decision he would make tonight, and thinking about it now wasn’t helpful at all.

“It’s time to sleep now, Eggsy”, Harry reminds him warmly. “We could go for lunch tomorrow, if you’re available.”

“Since Merlin’s having us both back at HQ, he’ll surely can’t make a fuss.”

“Hopefully. Good night, Eggsy.”

“Good night.”


	17. Just work it out

The way Harry arrives at HQ half an hour late, with impeccable hair and and dressed up to the nines makes Eggsy doubt that this man has ever been in coma or lying in the burning sun in front of a church in Kentucky like an overrun dear or simply vomiting on his own trousers a mere two weeks ago. 

Harry has lost weight, inversely proportional to Eggsy gaining some, and the scar on his temple is an undeniable proof that something must have happened. But he’s not sweating, or crying or shouting or being miserable. And Eggsy thinks - while he watches him walk to Merlin’s cave and quickly follows him - that he looks like he’s sorting himself out somehow. Eggsy really wants him to be okay.

“Good mornin’, Haz”, Eggsy calls and can’t help but smile at the surprised look on Harry’s face when he turns around on his heels.

“Good morning to you, Eggsy.”

There’s some sort of semi-awkward pause when Eggsy stops right before him and throws a grin at the older man. Should they hug? Shake hands? Give him a peck on the cheek? Pinch his bum? Oh wait - no no! Don’t, Eggsy. 

Harry breaks the silence, carefully positioning his umbrella over his forearm again.

“I’ve been on my way to Merlin. Please join me, unless of course there are more important things to do at the moment.”

“Not a busy day, Haz, we’ll begin slowly today”, Eggsy replies and falls into step with Harry who simply touches him on the small of his back until they reach Merlin’s Refugio.

Merlin wears the same sweater for two days now, as Eggsy knows from seeing him yesterday, and has only changed his shirt for the sake of his smell. Otherwise he seems medium stressed, he probably just doesn’t care anymore since he barely leaves his cave and sees the real sunlight. 

“Ah, my two favourite troublemakers”, he greets them more relaxed than Eggsy would have suspected and pushes his glasses up to his forehead to wipe a hand over his tired face.

“Back in the tracks, I suppose” Harry answers and lets his gaze wander around the room. Coffee cups that haven’t been cleaned up by the night shift stand on almost everyone’s desk, paper cups fill the bins and it smells of a lot of hard working people in a badly ventilated place. 

“Take a seat”, Merlin says and points at two chairs before he notices that they are stacked with papers. He truly looks fed off afterwards and whispers “Just push them on the floor”, accompanied by a heavy, exhausted sigh.

Eggsy and Harry politely take the documents and put them on a nearby chair because, yes, written on them could be the fate of a whole nation or continent. 

“So”, Merlin begins after having settled down in a chair himself and looking almost comfortable. “I have your results from the medical”, he says and slides Harry a file over his desk. “Looks fine to me.”

Raising both brows, Harry opens it and scans through the data, though Eggsy doubts he understands it fully. Still, he is more than interested in Harry’s test results and eyes him sternly. 

“We can work with that”, Harry concludes, slaps the file shut and gives Merlin a half-hearted smile. Merlin nods silently and turns to his computer. “Well, after you both know that Galahad here is fine now you can go, Eggsy.”

“Let him stay”, Harry intervenes softly before Eggsy can even make a frown. “He’ll learn or something like that.”

“I don’t want rumors spreading after I’m going to tell you what I’m going to tell you”, Merlin scoffs and turns back to them. “Even though you haven’t seen each other for two weeks, you can probably keep your hands off each other for some minutes now, yeah?”

“You are being rude, Merlin”, Harry reminds him. “And making us both uncomfortable.”

“I haven’t slept nearly enough to put up with your shi-”, Merlin pauses and stares on his desk for a second. 

“Okay”, he breathes and looks at Harry, then at Eggsy. “Here’s the thing. It’s been only a few minutes and your already looking at each other like puppies again, and talking for each other. That thing began when you came back and shouted at me for Eggsy’s sake - right here in this office - and continued when you broke down and I had to separate Eggsy from you. I’m tired of it now. You can’t always ally against me and hurt each other in the process, you’re both too clever for it.”

Oh boy, that escalated quickly. Eggsy swallows hard and wants to say at least something calming but Merlin interrupts him again.

“Oh, and don’t look at me like that, Unwin! You told a blatant lie to my fucking face, now get out of here.”

Harry throws Eggsy a comforting look and then rises from his chair to get around the desk to Merlin who sunk into the leather of his own.

“You’re tired”, Harry says quietly and kneels down next to his friend. “You’re just exhausted.”

“I wish I were, Harry”, the Scott groans and wipes his eyes furiously, leaving them read and dilated. “Kingsman is going to shit, and you two can’t get your fucking life together and be helpful. No, I have to stitch you both back together regulary. You can’t handle your fucking medication, and young Tristan here can’t get himself to go to his fucking therapist. It’s making me fucking angry, Harry, but I won’t say another thing. I have no right to be angry, but I still think you’re both stupid.”

Merlin crosses his arms before his chest and stares at Harry’s now empty chair. 

“What do you mean with Kingsman is going to shit?”, Harry asks and kneads Merlin’s shoulder softly.

“Finances are okay, but our infrastructure is bullshit. You can’t buy loyalty, but we have no time to grow new agents, pilots, mechanics, not even cleaning and medical staff in natural pace. I risk getting us a mole with every job interview and every camera feed I can’t watch. The only thing that’s working perfectly right now is the gadget machinery...”

Merlin leans forwards tiredly and pulls a register of weaponry onto his computer screen. “But what do you do with weapons when you have nobody to use them? Our agents are overworked”, Merlin’s frown transfers to a more miserable expression, “we’ve seen it with Eggsy. I couldn’t bear to loose an agent to fucking stress, but if I don’t put you all on multiple missions a month and raise your responsibility, the world will break down.”

“I’m sorry”, Eggsy breaths.

“For what exactly, lad?”, Merlin asks bitterly. Harry grips his shoulder and looks at his old friend sternly until Merlin sighs. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that earlier.”

“It’s okay”, Eggsy replies quietly and stares at Merlin with concern. He didn’t realize Kingsman was doing that bad again. He didn’t realize Merlin was so hopelessly overworked. “Can I help with anything now?”

Merlin shakes his head and Harry sends him a small smile and a nod that says that he can handle his friend alone. Eggsy leaves the cave and wanders through HQ in search of someone he can chatter about vanities with. It will be best to keep a cool head now and not take offense by anything Merlin said or deduced. 

 

He finds Roxy in the park of the mansion, playing with her dog of course, which reminds Eggsy that he could have brought JB, too. And that he’s been a terrible dog owner lately, if we’re at it. Chatting with Roxy while scratching through her poodle’s fur makes everything better for a bit, until he tells her of Merlin’s eventual breakdown a few minutes ago.

“Harry’s with him now, I hope they’re discussing the future task allocation and who’s going to be proposed for Arthur.”

“Galahad of course”, Roxy sighs. Her mood had immediately darkened upon hearing of Merlin’s misstep. Eggsy knew that she tried her best, too, and that made him question his own commitment for Kingsman right now.

“You both made him worry a lot”, Roxy sighs again, “me, too, actually.”

“Sorry for that.”

Roxy gives him an unexpected kiss to the temple and keeps leaning to his shoulder, both staring into the same direction.

“We all failed when it came to your attempted suicide, Eggsy”, she whispered and he had a feeling that she was the first person to speak so clearly about this evening. It clung to the air, wandered with him like a shadow and mirrored in the concerned looks the people who knew of it gave him, but Roxy just said it out loud like it was just a fact. Like it was okay, and over.

“I was busy and over challenged, Merlin was devastated and over challenged, Harry was angry and over challenged. Nobody knew how to react, nobody knew how to help you. Well Harry knew a little, but he isn’t a professional.”

“He sticked with me, Rox, it was only good of him.”

“Don’t you think it was a little bit selfish, also?”

Eggsy turns to look at her with a frown. 

“He likes you, Eggsy. He finds comfort in you being there, he’s less tense - that’s what I read between the lines of what you told me. You’re kind of an anchor for him, too. If you believe it or not. He moved in with you, he lost it, he endangered you. Then you stuck with him, and lied to Merlin.”

“We really fucked up”, Eggsy concludes.

“You both really fucked up”, Roxy smirks against his shoulder. “But we’re all going to be okay.”

 

Harry and Eggsy share a cab ride home after work and Eggsy decided to give the driver Harry’s address solely. After Harry shoots him an asking look, but then they just sit in comfortable silence and Eggsy puts his head against the cool window and watches the rain run down on the other side of the glass.

“You invited yourself for a drink, I suppose?”, Harry asks when the cab pulls into the driveway.

Eggsy follows him into the house silently and hangs up his scarf and coat in the hallway, slips out of his Oxfords and follows Harry into the kitchen where the light is rather bright and awakening. It’s been sort of a long, exhausting day in a very not-demanding way. 

“Are you going to tell me what you two talked about after I left?”

“Partly”, Harry says quietly and takes two bottles out of his liquor cabinet before he puts them back with a frown. “Not a day for martinis”, he whispers and decides for a heavier bottle of whiskey. 

Eggsy’s not surprised that he won’t be told everything. Not after how he’s left Kingsman, not after how he lied to Merlin. Because of fucking course Merlin had seen through it. It slowly dawned to him, that Harry must have known it, too, and deliberately overstepped the rules. To provoke. Things are not fine between any of them.

“He asked you to be Arthur, right?”

Harry presses a small smile. “Right after asking be to get my life in order, yes.”

“You can’t help with the nightmares.”

“And you can’t help with depression, still we have to try and somehow get it together.” Harry sounds firm, just on the brink of bitter.

“So you take him seriously.”

“I would always take Merlin seriously when he’s angry...”

“No, I mean that we have to try harder.”

Harry looks up from where he’s just been avoiding to spill any of the liquor and sets the bottle down on the counter. “He hurt you with that, didn’t he?”

Eggsy swallows. He can see how Harry is avoiding an opinion, trying not to hurt his feelings either. 

“For god’s sake, Harry, just fucking tell me. Am I not trying enough?”

“I’m not a professional..:”

“And still you thought you could care for me.”

Harry swallows. “That clearly turned out to be a mistake.”

Well, that hurts. If those weeks with Harry hadn’t been the best time of his year, it probably wouldn’t be such a stinging pain. But now a bitter cold begins to coat his heart. Eggsy is so fucking tired of this shit.

“I’m must not tell you to try harder, because I am not better”, Harry concludes, suggesting that yes, he thought Eggsy isn’t doing his best to get better. In the same breath he has finished filling their glasses, and slides one over to Eggsy who eyes it suspiciously. 

Eggsy takes it, holds it up against the light and shakes his head. “This is so fucked up.”

Then, with a lithe movement, he flicks his arm and spills the contents of the glass into Harry’s face. 

Harry doesn’t move an eye-lash. Only Eggsy’s heart jumps in his chest while the older man pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes his face. 

“Well, thanks for that. Whatever it was for.”

“You’re telling me to try harder and give me a glass of whiskey in the same breath. That’s counterproductive, I’d say.”

“And throwing it at me is a waste”, Harry sighs and wipes his chin were most of the glass’ contents had landed. 

“Merlin said something else”, Eggsy continues, fired on by the silent aggressiveness in Harry’s eyes. “That we’re like puppies.”

“He said we were looking at each other like puppies”, Harry corrects and throws the wet handkerchief into the sink. 

“Yes, any thoughts on that?”

“Well, I think there have been times when we have been far more intimate than now. I don’t see why Merlin would complain.” Harry’s voice is cold, sharp and wakes a defiance in Eggsy he didn’t know he had. Always suggesting, Mr. Hart, almost gaslighting him. Here, in the walls where they indeed have given each other support, have become an anchor for each other. Has that faded? Does Harry grief for that times or why is the passive aggressiveness?

“You are ridiculous”, Eggsy whispers, in negative awe of his friends slyness.

“I would answer something similar, but I remember where this sort of conversation ended the last time.”

Harry’s arrogant, authoritarian tone is the same like it was back then in the bathroom, when they had their last words without knowing it. Eggsy’s eyes burn immediately. 

“Fuck you”, he says clearly and shakes his head, folding his hands on his chest. 

Harry straightens himself up and tucks at his sticky collar. “You’re welcome to stay in the guestroom. I do not wish to continue this conversation and will bid you a good night.”

With these words, he climbs up the stairs and Eggsy hears his bedroom door close and shut again. 

“Wanker”, he whispers, before following him up the stairs. He gets himself a towel and a pair of pajamas out of the guestroom cabinet because - no - he won’t back off home now, even if his mentor is being a right prick. 

He waits on the bed and checks his phone while Harry showers and goes to the bathroom as soon as he is certain the bedroom door has clicked shut again. While showering, calmness finds his way back again and Eggsy reevaluates the situation. Harry had retreated from voicing an opinion and maybe Eggsy should have just respected that. Being a proper gentleman and that shite, but Harry certainly could have been honest with him. For god’s sake, that men could tell him he drove Eggsy’s car against a wall and Eggsy won’t give a fuck as long as Harry stares at him with his whiskey-goddess-eyes.

And when he’s back in the guest room and thinks about Harry just a few doors down the hallway, he can’t help but worry again. In his head, the dialogue already forms:

‘He’s knocking on the door, softly, and opens it as he’s answered with a quiet come in. “I have a feeling you’re not sleeping well tonight”, Eggsy would say, because it’s the truth and he cares so much. “I have it, too”, Harry would say and pull the covers back.’ Well, yes, that would be a bit too cheesy. Still nice.

But Eggsy can’t do it. He can’t just lie down next to Harry anymore - and somehow he honestly grieves after the times where he could - because the longing to touch him is too great. To touch his chest, his jaw, his scar, his tummy. 

And he can’t really know if Harry would let him do that. He can’t put everything at risk because he interpreted Harry’s reaction to Merlin’s comments wrong. He possibly might, Harry wasn’t an open book, really. Besides, Merlin would loose it if he found out they had something going.

So Eggsy let it be, had a wank, and fell asleep. That’s what you do when you want to get your life together.


	18. And though the world explodes

The next day, his new therapist waits for him in the library of the mansion, just as he asked Merlin to arrange it. She’s younger, black and less wrinkled than Dr. Fischer, but her eyes have the same intelligent and observant sparkle to them. Dr. Agyeman has short, braided hair and sports a suit instead of a pencil skirt. That’s what he would have expected, honestly, after his last encounter with one of her kind.

She knows everything already, probably from Merlin or from Eggsy’s files, and it’s a relief not having to explain it all again. Besides, Eggsy’s still not sure, what was really going with his mind that day. Dr. Agyeman also knows of his current living situation, as she informs him shortly after.

“How do you feel since you moved out from Mr. Hart?”, she asks. 

“Don’t know”, he sighs, “I miss him, I suppose. I mean, that whole situation made me think about...ya know...that we’re both not stable enough.”

“Not stable enough for what?”

Eggsy licks his lips. “Helping each other out, living together, being together...that sort. I was always thinking one at least had to be in control of himself and could sort of guide the other. I’m not sure about that anymore.”

“You are referring to Mr. Hart’s intoxication.”

“Yes.”

“Has he been unreliable before?”

Eggsy snorts. Not sure how much she was supposed to knew and how much was still classified, he tells her: “Harry vanished for some months after V-Day. He came back on the day I climbed up Tower Bridge.”

“Did he lie to you about going away?”, she asks and angles her head a little. Eggsy can see a scar on the exposed skin of her neck. It’s not big, but looks like the skin has once been ragged. Maybe a souvenir from V-Day.

“No, no. It was out of his control, really.”

“And after the incident?”

“We’ve been good”, he nods, “had a small fight last night, but nothing serious.”

Eggsy had arrived in HQ before Harry even got up and was glad he had some time for himself before his appointment with Dr. Agyeman to sort things out and visit the shooting range if necessary. 

His therapist looks at him, expectantly, and he sighs again.

“It was...we had a uncomfortable situation at work prior to that, because of both our missteps in the recent past and how that affected our work.”

He glances at the golden Kingsman-brooch on her lapel, back to her scar and finally into her eyes. 

“Were you angry at him when you came to his house?”

“Not immediately, I was kind of frustrated with myself already, so...”, Eggsy swallows and locks eyes with her. “That’s nice talk, really. I mean, I lied to my boss, broke his rules and interrupted my therapy. I wasn’t giving my best really. I just lived on the comfort Harry gave me.”

“So what lit the fire exactly?” Her calm voice brings Eggsy down again and away from his anger.

“I...”, he pauses, “presumed that he was thinking that I wasn’t giving my best in, you know, healing. And he avoided it so, yeah - I was probably right. He was frustrated, too, okay? And I can understand now how it must have been for him, but-”

She looks at him, listening carefully and nods affirmatively.

Eggsy has to smile at how ridiculous and unnecessary the fight had been. “-I lost my impulse control an threw his 250-pounds-per-bottle-whiskey at him. Not very mature.”

“No, not the least”, she says, but her expression stays friendly. “What else happened?”

“I tried to confront him on other things we’ve been accused of”, Eggsy says, choosing his words carefully. “He made a snarky remark and went to bed, that’s it.”

“Delicate matter then?”

Eggsy tried to guess how much she already assumed of their relationship and decides to not answer directly. “He thinks of me as family, that’s what he said.”

She squinted her eyes slightly, clearly getting suspicious by the unsure tone of his voice.

“He told you that yesterday?”

“No, but not so long ago.”

“And what did he say to you last night?”

Eggsy swallows and turns his head to look out of the window onto the mansion park.

“He sounded bitter”, he recalls, replaying Harry’s choice of words in his head. “He said that there have been times when we’ve been far more intimate than now and really nobody has to worry. I don’t know really what to make of that”, he admits quietly. 

“Have you been intimate?”

The corner of his mouth shoots up. “In a very innocent way. Emotionally close, I would call it.” 

She nods and leans back, not letting him out of her focus. “You’ve been living with Mr. hart, trusting him, developing deep feelings for him and now you’re unsure of whether he is still reliable and reciprocating your affection”, she summarizes and lifts an asking brow.

“I don’t-...I”, Eggsy fights with the words, “I want to be the reliable sometimes. Most times. But I don’t know if I can be.”

“Have you talked about this with Mr. Hart? Aside from a romantic relationship I mean, there are many ways roles can manifest in any kind of relationship.”

“I guess we were still in a sort of mentor-protégé shape when he came back.”

“Have you found any changes to that?”

“Besides that I want to f- kiss him most of the time?”, Eggsy asks and Dr. Agyeman nods. He draws a deep breath. “I have no idea. I don’t know to approach his. I don’t know how well any of it would go with our professional future, I have no idea.”

Dr. Agyeman uncrosses her legs and leans forward to Eggsy. “Don’t you think your current situation is the perfect springboard to any new modifications in your relationship? With presumably you both being somehow unsure you, shouldn’t you just get together and figure out, what both of you want?”

Eggsy stares at her for a few seconds before he answers. That woman is precise. “Probably”, he says and purses his lips. 

She nods again, lowering her eyes to the floor for a second, before she raises from her chair. He mirrors her movement and they part with a handshake. 

 

 

He approaches Harry when he’s just coming out his office into the corridor and the older man immediately halts and nods gently. Before Eggsy can say something, he pulls him into the room and closes the door.

“I know that look of yours”, he says, voice a bit more quiet than usual. 

“You do?”, Eggsy asks cheekily and leans against Harry’s heavy desk. The older man stands before him and crosses his arms in front of his chest. 

“Who is going to apologize first?” Eggsy can’t help but smile at Harry’s dry tone and the obviously exaggerated seriousness.

“How about we let it go?”, the younger man suggests.

“Very well, Elsa”, Harry smiles, suddenly all open and friendly again, proving his strange sense of humor. But Eggsy secretly loves it. Harry can be moody and grumpy, dry and soft, changing the forms just as he likes. Watching him interact is rarely boring, contrary to his snobbish looks. 

“Frozen? Seriously? You’re fifty-seven, Harry.”

Harry’s forehead furrows instantly and Eggsy enjoys the funny fear, the cold anticipation of Harry’s reaction to the tease.

”First of all”, he begins, “not remembering things for months doesn’t mean to be blind and deaf for pop-culture and secondly...”

Eggsy throws himself out of Harry reach before the older man can grab him but the office isn’t big enough to find a proper hiding spot. Harry has slung an arm around his waist and they both fall to the floor, hitting it hard. 

“Stupid bastard”, Eggsy half laughs, half swears. “You’ve got an head injury, for god’s sake.”

“And enough pride not to let myself be called fifty-seven by a cheeky twenty-something”, Harry huffs and locks Eggsy’s wrist in his death grip. 

He pulls him up from the carpet until they’re both kneeling and then takes a moment to examine Eggsy carefully. His gaze is apologetic and a bit sad before he pulls the younger man in for an awkward embrace that squeezes the air out of Eggsy’s lungs in a very comfortable way. 

It reminds Eggsy of how they’ve ended up in the morning after Harry’s night terrors, and how familiar Harry’s touch had become. His warmth, his aura. 

“I wanted to take you out for a drink”, Eggsy mutters and grips the fabric of Harry’s suit tight. He had wanted to do that since the morning when he left the house hurriedly. “Tomorrow, how does that sound?”

“Sounds splendid”, Harry answers and lets go to raise from the floor elegantly while pulling Eggsy with him. He doesn’t hold on to Eggsy’s hand longer than necessary, his gaze doesn’t caress the younger man’s body anymore but stays at his eyes. “Still, we have to figure something out that helps Merlin, as well as doesn’t hinder you from getting back to work in your own time.”

“Have you decided what to do about his proposition then?”

“You mean: me being Arthur.”

“Yes.”

Harry tilts his head slightly and looks at Eggsy in a very fond and sad way.

“There isn’t much of a decision, Eggsy. I am not going to be fit for field work again soon, and I’m one of the few that fits the criteria for this position”, he says in a melancholic tone. 

Eggsy watches his mentors fingers twitch at the mention of field work. Harry was a killing machine. In his time as a Kingsman agent Eggsy hasn’t met any other agent with that many missions to his name or the experience in years Harry brings to the table. Eggsy would have loved to see Harry in the field - just once under better circumstances than Kentucky - and experience the full joy with which Harry had exerted his profession.

“Merlin has set the election date to next Wednesday, the coronation will be the day after.”

Eggsy’s not entirely surprised at the pace this takes. Harry’s not the one for a big ceremony, he presumes. Maybe he can treat his mentor with a movie-evening instead, something more to his taste at least.

“Well, that’s good news.”

Harry smiles wryly and nods.

Eggsy throws him a bright grin and searches for the words that will part them for the day.

“I’ll pick you up at 7, okay?”

Harry nods again and watches as Eggsy leaves his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for letting you all wait for so long, I truly am


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date Night!

Harry is breathtakingly beautiful this evening. Eggsy can barely keep himself from staring at his mentor in the dim light of the cab and 10 min later in the bar the light is even more in Harry’s favor.

“So what have ya been up to today?”, Eggsy asks maybe a bit over-enthusiastically over their first pint. He’s excited for spending time with Harry, but also the man’s become a constant warmth in his life that makes him relax immediately. They are leaning over the bar counter, quite ungentlemanly and just starting to acclimate themselves to the humid, smoky air inside. 

“I..”, Harry started while correcting his cuff links, “have been doing finances from home. Merlin send them to me, probably thought he should keep me busy.” His voice doesn’t even try to hide how boring he found that work and how boring it probably sounds to Eggsy. 

“Yeah, thought the same when he ordered me to HQ at 7 in the morning”, Eggsy grins, not loosing his cheek despite their recent beef with their friend. 

Harry took a sip and curled his lips afterwards. “What did he have you do?”

“José showed me how our handler-agent-communication worked. I watched Bors for some time, researched background info for him on some Finn. Nothing all to serious.” Eggsy shrugged his shoulders. “Roxy’s in Berlin right now, visiting Amelia, so there wasn’t much going on.”

Harry watched him with a thoughtful gaze he finally breaks to frown slightly. “You are missing it, aren’t you? I know you told me you considered quitting it altogether, but the way you...you know, the way you talk about it. Please tell me if I’m wrong.”

“You aren’t”, Eggsy answered, taking a deep breath and pushing his shoulders back. “But- “, he sighs and searches for Harry’s eyes. “-I’ve been an agent for some months, Haz, I don’t think I could just re-enter this job. It’s too special, and I’m....”

“I think it would be possible”, Harry interrupted the self-conscious thoughts. “I’ve seen the footage from V-Day, and from some of your other missions.” He pursed his lips shortly and looked at Eggsy before he took another sip of beer. “You are very talented, you know, and talent is a responsibility in my opinion.”

“You’re not actually working at home, are ya? Just watching vids of me lovely arse shooting some baddies”, Eggsy teased him, wanting to close the topic. “But it’s very nice of you to say”, he added in a more serious tone.

“Well, since I was your mentor it’s always a bit of self-praise”, Harry remarked with a sly smile and winked at the younger man over the rim of his glass. The muscle at his temple moved the pink scar like an reminder. 

They wait in silence for a moment before Harry begins the next topic.

“How’s your sister and mother?”, he asks, smiling faintly at the memory of small Daisy.

Eggsy’s eyes light up at the mention of his sister. “Good”, he smiles, “she’s walking a step more with everyday and her daycare’s aces.” 

“I’m happy to hear it”, Harry says honestly. 

“But you’re not getting to make her an agent someday, Haz”, Eggsy warns, still smiling, “she’s far too precious to ever have calloused hands.”

“I think she can decide that for her own when she’s old enough”, Harry smiles back , “It would be a shame to waste her good genes on something else than the world’s safety.”

Eggsy shot Harry a warning look. “You’ll have to get past me first”, he said a wagged a threatening finger. Harry lazily snapped his hand out of the way and tested Eggsy’s palm with his own fingertips. 

“Your hands are calloused to, they still can hold a small girl gently, can’t they?”, Harry states and looks up at Eggsy expectantly.

“Rather a guy, bruv”, Eggsy replies and raises the pint to his lips to hide his smile while Harry lets go of his hand to snort dramatically.

“You know what I’m intending to say”, Harry sighs with a amused smile and looks down into his lap.

“Are you okay?”, Eggsy asks and it almost sounds random, pint in hand and slouched over the counter and all. 

Harry looks up again and meets Eggsy’s eyes. He looks distant for the split of a second, scared, but Eggsy knows somehow that this is just insecurity. Exhaustion perhaps.

“I feel a bit lost from time to times”, Harry admits, with a honesty and openness Eggsy would not have expected so soon this night. “The job”, Harry looks over to the bartender and back to his cuffs, “the house. I was a lot more contempt with it all before Kentucky.”

“Yeah, me too”, Eggsy sighs. “How are the nightmares?”

Harry’s face crunches at the mention and that’s really enough of an answer. 

“I’m getting along, Eggsy”, he declared despite his facial expression. 

“That’s not the deal we made, Harry”, Eggsy reminds him. Their first ‘date’, the night Harry took him out to dining and the walk to the Clapham Commons afterwards. 

“What deal exactly did we make?”, Harry asks, frowning. 

“Well, not exactly a deal”, Eggsy sighs, avoiding direct eye contact for a second. “I promised myself not to be a burden for you any more...”

“Eggsy...”, Harry moans sadly.

“Burden may be the wrong word”, Eggsy hastily corrects. “I promised myself to get my shit together and be there for you, okay? That’s why you should fucking tell me when you’re feeling alone or lost or whatever.”

Harry says nothing for a while, he just takes Eggsy’s hand in his again and looks over the counter to the shelves of alcohol behind the bartender, his face in deep thought. 

 

Eggsy visits the bathroom before they decide to leave after two pint and a bit of lighter chattering. Talking about less heavier stuff was decidedly easier and filled a good hour with laughter and relieved the tension between them. Eggsy was now comfortably lit, and while washing his hands in the higher-than-average-clean sink, he decided that this would be the day. 

He had showered, looks nice in his dark jumper and the dark pair of jeans with a pair of decent shows, and him and Harry are in good spirit. So today, he will dare. Harry seems as alone as Eggsy is, and the young man aches to let him know. 

They could be good together, he firmly believes it and he will prove it tonight. So he shakes off the last anxiety and leaves the loo with clenched fists.

Harry waits for him at the door, Eggsy’s coat slung over his arms and a small smile on his lips at the sight of the younger man. 

They walk a bit down the street from the pub and Eggsy decides to stop a decent place, not necessarily next to the rubbish bins, and finds the warmly lighted corner shop a good place to start. Harry stops next to him, looking expectantly down to find the young man gaping up.

Yes, Harry is breathtaking. His face is so utterly addictive, Eggsy doesn’t know where to start deciding which parts are the best. Probably the now smoothened crow feet around his eyes, or the greyish streaks of hair at the temple. The fond smile with the barest hint of teeth, and the asking, but trusting look in Harry’s eyes. 

He and Harry had been a bullet two inches to the left from never seeing each other again, and there is no use now in wasting time and waiting for the next sign, the next cue of fate.

“Fuck it”, Eggsy murmurs under his breath and pulls Harry down with both hands on his cheeks. He presses his lips on Harry’s and almost gasps from the sudden feeling of joy and relief. It is when Harry’s arms circles his waist over the woolen coat that the adrenaline kicks in and he really has to draw a deep breath. 

Harry is silent, he doesn’t move, he just kisses Eggsy tenderly until the younger man draws back and carefully observes the older man’s reaction.

Harry tastes his lips, interest brightening his eyes, and he gulps before he pulls Eggsy’s body closer to his. 

“You are beautiful in this light”, Eggsy whispers and pulls a half-smile. Harry inclines his head, waiting. “And”, Eggsy draws a deep, shaky breath, “I love you. Probably more than I know by now.”

Harry waits another second. “Ahhh”, he exhales, seeming to realize suddenly. “Well, what a pleasant surprise.” 

“Not really a surprise, is it?”, Eggsy says coyly, his heart fluttering like a scared bird in his chest.

“Not really”, Harry smiles, and it is the bright and fond kind, not the sad. His eyes wrinkle and his teeth bare, before he leans down again to press their foreheads together. “I wasn’t sure in which way, though.”

“In every ways, apparently”, Eggsy chuckles dryly, feeling the urge to rub his face at every piece of Harry he can reach. He noses Harry’s cheek until the older man chuckles, too, and presses a small kiss to Eggsy’s temple.

“How convenient”, Harry whispers, kissing his way down to Eggsy’s mouth. “Since I am completely gone for you. In every way possible.”

“Well, that’s nice”, Eggsy breathes before he is drawn into another kiss, a steamier, hungrier one. Harry cradles Eggsy’s face with his hand, leaving Eggsy to circle his much wider waist. There is teeth and tongue and hot breath on their skin, heavy panting and shocking impulses that are conducted through their bodies. 

Eggsy doesn’t not know how long they stand there. He feels light-headed all the way to Harry’s house, grounded only by the calloused hand that impatiently rubs his.


	20. these two survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> actually no april's fool!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *PLEASE READ THIS: BIG TRIGGER WARNING AHEAD*
> 
> In this chapter, Harry and Eggsy will indulge in the more physical pleasures (as well as the emotional) and Eggsy's state of mind leads to severe miscommunication between the two. I would like to tell my readers who may be triggered by descriptions of abuse or discomfort while having sex (there is no actual abuse, but Eggs'y is definitely not in control) to either not read the chapter (you won't miss important detail other than that the two finally get to fuck) or skip to the second half of the text (where the comfortable, well-communicated love-making ensues). Be safe.
> 
> this is all spoilers, but it's important. Besides you won't read this chapter for the non-existing plot but for the smut :)

They are at Harry’s house now and Eggsy’s cold. The rush from their kiss has faded, now he’s just following Harry into the hallway and up the stairs. Harry who tugs him gently by the hand, Harry who smiles at him over his shoulder, Harry who is glowing warmly in the dimmed bedroom lights.

And Eggsy? Eggsy is fucking nervous. Because this isn’t just a fuck, he loves this man and he wants to be enough but he’s not sure he can be tonight. Anxiety is flooding his brain, but somehow he manages to kiss Harry back.

Where has all his security gone? They’re just a cab ride apart from where they started, from where Eggsy had gathered the bravery to kiss this adorable man, but now this isn’t like he imagined it. Harry’s hands are warm when they lay down on his shoulders and yes, he does feel wanted, but he’s not feeling entirely secure.

‘Shut up’, he tells his brain and concentrates on opening the buttons of his shirt. Harry doesn’t say a word, he just watches Eggsy’s hands with a small smile.

When they kiss again, still standing in the middle of the room, Harry slings an arm around Eggsy’s waist and the younger man’s beginning to feel better. Safer. He can put his hands on either side of Harry’s upper body and nip at his lips. Eggsy can feel Harry’s smile curl against his mouth.

When they part, Eggsy has to swallow down his nervousness and face Harry’s dark eyes again. The man is hungry, and there’s something predatory about him, naturally. Because sometimes Eggsy has to remind himself that Harry isn’t all made of woolen cardigans and slippers, but has seen and caused more agony and blood flow than anyone else Eggsy knows. Harry is a predator letting himself off the leash and Eggsy is the prey tonight. 

Eggsy’s heart is hammering against his chest again and he can’t control the sudden rush of adrenaline as Harry goes on him more harshly and less like a gentlemen.

Before Eggsy can think of anything to do, he’s pinned to the wall and a hot tongue goes on adventures in his mouth. Harry’s a good kisser, an those gentle pecks have turned into his tongue fucking Eggsy’s while his broad hands roam Eggsy’s body.

There’s a knee between his thighs now and a leg pressing to the bulge of Eggsy’s erection. He tries to reciprocate the attention he’s getting but he’s constantly distracted by new touched and shivers on his skin.

It’s delicious when Harry heavily pants next to his ear and absolutely hot when he opens Eggsy’s trousers and slides his hands around his back to grab Eggsy’s cheeks, but it’s still overwhelming. Harry does now what he wants and he’s assuming Eggsy is loving to give it to him. He probably thinks Eggsy is too submissive to get moving.  
And Eggsy hates it.

Suddenly, he is afraid by how Harry’s big body is topping him, hunched over him against the wall. How he’s savoring Eggsy’s skin so comfortably while Eggsy doesn’t even know if he can take so much tonight. Harry is so new and everything about him comes in layers that - as soon as peeled off - reveal another new thing and another. Eggsy just wants to be careful with what he will see, and what he will reveal to Harry. 

Anxiety is now petrifying him. Anxiety and arousal together are a hell of a state of mind. Eggsy feels like a virgin all over again, far too tight and unrelaxed for the experience he had gathered over the years. 

He isn’t in control when Harry embraces him and pushes him onto the bed, instantly topping him again and taking any room Eggsy needs to breath. Harry is heavy and hot and otherwise he would probably be a very pleasant weight but Eggsy knows he will loose it in a few minutes. A panic attack is building up, he feels the knot in his throat, and it’s not getting better from Harry rocking his hips at his.

He has to do something. Now. Or it will end in a disaster.

“Harry”, he growls because arousal has taken control of his voice. Harry growls back from his stomach, where he is licking his way down to Eggsy’s already open trousers.

“Harry”, Eggsy whines against and doesn’t know how to stop Harry’s head from going down further without hurting or startling him, so he just grabs the older man’s wrist. 

Harry misinterprets it. Before Eggsy can stop him, Harry is mouthing his erection through his underpants and for a moment he is too sensible to intervene. His hips buckle up unconsciously and Harry grabs his thigh.

The younger man takes a deep breath and tries to clear his mind. He wriggles out underneath Harry and tries to avoid Harry’s confused face when he rolls over and swings his feet over the edge. He trembling from arousal and anxiety simultaneously. He can barely close his trousers and stroke a hand through his hair before Harry gets in his way.

“Is everything okay?”, Harry asked with concern. His pupils are dilated, his mouth is dry, his lips are swollen.

“I-I can’t”, Eggsy mumbles. He swallows and pushes past Harry, searching for his shirt that has gotten lost somewhere between the wall and the bed. There it is, he puts it on with shaking fingers.

“Did I do something wrong?” Harry asks, hesitatingly making a step forward. His own erection is tenting his trousers in an absurd contrast to his frown, it’s terribly awkward all of the sudden.

Yes, everything, Eggsy answers in his mind but shakes his head in reality, because it’s not Harry’s fault entirely. Eggsy was crippled by fear, in fact he is still. Not. In. Control. 

His hands tremble too much to close the shirt properly so he just leaves it open and tries to hold the frustrated tears back.

Harry is still looking at him, lacking the words Eggsy is lacking, too.

“I’m just overchallenged right now, alright”, Eggsy says barely audible and tries not to have a panic attack. Trying that mostly leads to it getting worse. “I’m better going home”, he says, pressing a hand on his swollen lips and turns to the door.

“Eggsy, wait”, Harry calls but Eggsy is already at the stairs. He doesn’t touch him, but he manages to be fast enough to bring himself between the young man and the door before Eggsy can flee.

“Please just let me go”, Eggsy sobs, feeling as embarrassed and worn out as he hasn’t for ages.

“Please stay”, Harry replies, softly, thankfully still not trying to touch him, because Eggsy knew it would make it worse. “Calm down, please. Everything is fine, you don’t have to worry.”

“I’m not worrying”, Eggsy can’t help but murmur, “I’m fucking hyperventilating.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and gives him a comforting but restrained smile while Eggsy calms his breathing and wipes away the tears.

“I’m sorry, I fucked up”, he whispers, feeling bad about himself all over again. 

“What was it?”, Harry asks softly and leans back against the door. His bulge has shrunk and Eggsy feels felt sorry for that, too.

“I--you...you are fucking terrifying, you know that? God, you’re so active and big, I just couldn’t breath.”

“Oh”, Harry gasps, already looking regretful. Eggsy wants to fucking cry at that voice. The night started like heaven and now it was the fucking apocalypse. “I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you, I didn’t mean to”, Harry elaborates further, his voice soothing and understanding.

“I know”, Eggsy sighs and lets his head drop between his shoulders. “We should have fucking talked about that, before.”

“Knowing us we probably should have” Harry takes a step forward and reaches out with his hand for Eggsy’s. 

Sometimes loving someone and feeling comfortable in one’s close proximity isn’t the same in the beginning. Eggsy is still nervous, he will be nervous the next thousand years with Harry, but he also knows Harry understands and maybe was a bit overexcited, too. But the way Harry holds his hand it feels like it is no big deal at all. Try and error, learning and doing better. 

“Maybe we should take another drink”, Harry suggests very formal but a small smile plays on his lips.

Eggsy considers staying here over going home and cringing over the whole thing in the darkness and isolation of his own bedroom. He shouldn’t leave now and make himself small again. Harry’s looking at him with a lot of concerns and carefulness, looking very tousled and soft again instead of dangerous. Eggsy really wants to stay with Harry now, even if it’s just lying there and drinking and staring at each other. They hadn’t have enough of those love-drunken stares yet, he decides. “Yeah, grab the liquor. I’ll go to the bath.” 

“Alright.”

Eggsy goes to the upstairs bathroom, runs cool water over the back of his neck and when he comes back, Harry is sitting on the right side of the bed, legs crossed and drink in his hand. The sheets are arranged again, the light is a bit brighter, Harry looks more composed. Working atmosphere.

Eggsy has buttoned his shirt up again and sits down opposite of Harry on the bed. He takes a drink from the older man’s hand and nods gratefully. 

“Talking is hard”, Eggsy sighs after a few solemn minutes of staring on the mattress and listening to their breathing.

“We don’t have to”, Harry replies, uncrossing his legs and leaning down to the side so he can prop himself up on one arm. “But I’d like to know what you...want.”

Eggsy nods, still feeling awkward. He feels reminded of a job interview, where both employer and employee-to-be are testing and asking each other out on their weak points. Well, he already revealed his.

“But it probably doesn’t work like that”, Harry says again and puts his drink away. He reaches out for Eggsy and pulls him down to him on the mattress.

Harry talks, because maybe Harry can relate. Or he feels like he’s the more experienced and therefore should comfort Eggsy. Or because he really is the cause for the younger man’s troubles. Harry can be a violent man and a passionate one too, as he’s just proven, and maybe he’s somehow risking to letting both sides mixing up when he’s as excited and nervous as they were just yet. Maybe there was too much tension in both of them to work this properly, Eggsy thinks and decides to listen for now. 

“You’re not even my type, you know?”, Harry whispers and smiles and it’s hard to feel seriously offended. “You can ask Merlin. Historically, I was always going for the southern, broad and tall guy. Tanned, perfumed. But since you came along”, Harry clicks his tongue, “something must have changed.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes and lets his hands be taken by Harry’s and brought to his mouth to kiss them. “You’re beautiful in your very own way.”

“The slightly chubby and tired one”, Eggsy snorts and raises a brow. 

“Seems to be just perfect to make me fall in love with you.”

That is certainly a pleasant new thing. Harry admitting his love for him is good, refreshing, exciting in a very non-frightening way.

“Historically, I didn’t really went for old and scarred either, ya know”, Eggsy retorts, feeling his security streaming back into his body with every simple praise by the older man, and Harry scrapes his teeth over Eggsy’s knuckles. What a tease.

“What type then?”

“Don’t know. Dark background, as drugged as me, bright hair probably.”

Harry snorts again and draws Eggsy closer with his hand on the younger man’s waist. Eggsy can feel the older man’s breath on his cheek now, hot and moist. 

“Types are for the bin”, Eggsy says, “since I didn’t really didn’t like any of them. I couldn’t trust them.”

“Do you trust me?”, Harry asks, kissing Eggsy’s wrist. It’s a simple question, a very fomal one the way Harry’s pronounced it, but his look from underneath his leashes is still burning with the question.

“I do. And that’s what backfired, probably.” 

“How so?”, Harry ask leisurely while massaging Eggsy’s wrist gently. 

Eggsy draws a deep breath and settles deeper into the mattress. “You know where I come from, Harry”, he says, troubling his lips until he tastes blood. “There’s been a lot of men around my mum’s house and not all of them have been pleasant, so I’m not surprised I’m reacting this way to being...manhandled? I don’t know a better word for it.”

“I’ve been too rough”, Harry sighed, “I’m so sorry Eggsy, I should have thought about that. I...”, he exhales, fidgeting for the right words. He falls into silence and begins to tread his fingers through Eggsy’s hair instead. It’s better than apologies. 

“I’m still happy to be with you”, Eggsy assures him after a while. It’s the truth, after the first shock has faded he truly is. 

Eggsy watches as Harry’s expression turn soft again. He leans forward and presses a simple peck to the corner of Harry’s mouth. 

They just lie there for half an hour, gazing at each other through half-lidded eyes. Harry tries to blow a strand of hair from Eggsy’s forehead but doesn’t succeed and Eggsy find out that Harry is bit ticklish right under the ribs. Harry flails and chuckles and gathers Eggsy in his arms for a kiss before he can do more harm.

It’s just as nice as the first time, with a bit more teasing and testing and a loud chuckle as Harry drags Eggsy out of balance and onto his chest. Again. Eggsy wants to try again, suddenly. He needs to, to show himself that it is going to be okay with Harry. 

He raises again and pulls Harry with him. The room is bright, Eggsy could count the small crow feet around Harry’s eyes and the small wrinkles in his shirt, but he doesn’t.

He kisses him, tenderly like before, and nudges their noses, presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes. He wants to enjoy Harry and his warmth. And Harry tries to make him enjoy it, too. 

“You are so brilliant, my dear boy”, he whispers and Eggsy smiles against his cheek while his fingers work on Harry collar.

“You smell good”, Eggsy answers bluntly, because it is true. He pulls Harry’s vest careful over the older mans head and helps him to slip out of his blue shirt, before he let his hands roam over the scarred skin on Harry’s chest and comb through the fine brown hairs. 

Harry’s hands wander to his back and under the hem of his shirt to just lie on the small of his back and draw them closer together. Eggsy is still tense, but not uncomfortable. 

He kisses Harry and Harry melts into it. And as Harry is letting go, Eggsy finds it easier to do it himself.

“God, you could interrogate me right now and I would be happy to please”, Harry growls. “You’re too good, my dear.”

“Is that so?”, Eggsy asks cheekily and licks a small strip over Harry’s jaw. “Tell me all the dirty secrets of Secret Intelligence then, so I can blackmail Merlin later.”

Harry snorts and tugs at Eggsy’s ear shell with his teeth. Then he leans back and looks like just had an epiphany. 

“He surely didn’t tell you the legend of British spies using semen as invisible ink”, Harry blurts out. “And that he tried all the myths he read about in our time as trainees.”

“What?”, Eggsy gasps, irritated by the answer to what was meant as a joke, before he realizes the fully serious expression on Harry face. “That’s fucking gross.”

“They stopped eventually, for a reason. And so did Merlin.” Harry raises a brow and holds Eggsy as he chuckles, satisfied with how the young man relaxes in his grip. 

“But don’t let me distract you”, he whispers and goes back to suck on Eggsy’s earlobes.

“You’re weird, Harry Hart”, Eggsy whispers back, needing a moment to concentrate on the matter at hand again. His own hands long reached the waistband of Harry’s trousers and linger there, tugging the fabric, a little bit indecisive. He decides to make them even before he strips Harry bare to his briefs and unbuttons his own shirt. Eggsy watches Harry’s expression and if its anything but entirely captivated he doesn’t know what.

It feels good to have Harry look at him for some time, to look him in the eyes, too. Eggsy feels innocent, almost pure. Not like back in the times in the old engine shed, as far away as possible from Dean.

Harry reaches out and puts his fingertips on the place between collar bones and upper sternum, brushing against the skin lightly. The slightly bent fingers - like a violinist touching his instrument with care and adoration and fascination for the way it completes him and his craft - tell everything that’s already written in Harry’s eyes. He wants Eggsy, and he loves him, and he will treat him well now. 

It’s then when Eggsy lets his hand slide over the muscle of Harry’s chest and rest on his rib cage that Harry draws a deep breath, his upper body extending itself, and he smiles softly, Eggsy’s heart skips a beat.

When Harry leans back and has dimmed the light with the switch next to the headboard, Eggsy pulls him into a different kind of kiss again. Hot, passionate, messy. While Harry tilts and angles Eggsy’s restless jaw, the young man can wrangle with his belt and push down his trouser. His hands follow the hollow of Harry’s spine down to his surprisingly tight briefs and slip under the fabric. 

Harry is actually responsive. He moans, but it’s more of a deep throaty growl, and presses Eggsy flush to his chest, leaving no room between them. 

“God, you’re beautiful”, he moans and Eggsy smiles because Harry really sounds so utterly pleased. 

His hands wander over Harry’s hips and to his front, where his erection is bulging his briefs. Eggsy leans in to take a good look and only gets his shoulder softly bitten by Harry, to which he answers with a slow, curious stroke of the older man’s cock.

Harry hisses and pushes him back, only to make him retreat a few inches, and gather a better sight on Eggsy’s body. “Time to get that off”, he whispers softly and lays his hands on the curve of Eggsy’s arse, sliding the fabric of Eggsy’s boxers down slowly.

“Well you are a sight”, Harry breathes against Eggsy’s ear shell again while simultaneously teasing the crack of his bum. 

“How long?”, Eggsy asks, his breathing getting faster, hitched and hot. “How long did you want me like this?”

Harry stops for a second, pursing his lips and deciding what to say. Eggsy can’t see his face, but Harry’s voice tells him of the older man’s smile. “Far too long”, Harry whispers, “probably since you started sleeping next to me.”

“Dirty-minded bugger”, Eggsy laughs and presses against Harry’s hot body. His fingers caress the older man’s back while Harry pulls him in by his bum, eliciting a moan from his lover. 

“And you?”, Harry asks back, voice gone lower this time. 

“How long I wanted you like this or how long I loved you?”, Eggsy asks, rubbing their erections together in a slow tempo.

Harry bites his neck and the first digit of his middle finger finds the way into Eggsy’s entrance, so there’s not much of a question.

“Since the night mares started”, Eggsy almost chokes on the words. “Or when I saw you in a wet shirt the day Mum and Daisy came over, bruv. You’re fucking eye candy.”

Harry chuckles and proceeds to open Eggsy up, pressing against the most delicate places. He clearly enjoyed the way the younger man arches up into him or whispers his name to the damp crook of his neck, his hands clinging to Harry’s back. They only part for Harry to lean over to the night drawer and get out a tube of lube, slick his fingers and get back to where he started. Eggsy all the while fists their cocks, both leaking with precome and almost achingly hard. 

“I’m ready”, Eggsy whispers into Harry’s ear, when he feels close to coming and emerges from Harry’s grip to position them both as he like it: Harry sitting with outstretched legs and himself right on top of him to ride the older man into oblivion. The grip of Harry’s hands on his hips feels familiar, his own fingers digging into Harry’s shoulders, too. 

They look each other straight in the eye as Eggsy sinks down on him, breathing heavily. Harry’s cock is fat and heavy, filling Eggsy to an ridiculous degree of satisfaction. 

“I can’t believe this”, Harry whispers, right before kissing him, and thereby revealed more of himself than he might know. His eyes are wide with lust and wonder, and there has never been a better expression Eggsy has made love to. He props himself up, testing the fraction and slides down again, eliciting a deep growl from Harry. His hands ghost over the older man’s nipples shortly, before he raises again and this time Harry’s hips buckle into him at just the right angle.

Eggsy closes his eyes and concentrates at the hot lust inside him, the pressure in his ass and the bottling-up orgasm. Harry grips his hips harder, slams into him this time and Eggsy blacks out for a second, sees stars and is greeted again by Harry’s hot breath ghosting over his neck. Guided by the older man’s hands they start moving in a more permanent tempo, slowly quickening up to a hot fucking.

Eggsy looses all his wits by the time Harry wraps a soft hand around his cock to release him and hot cum spurts onto the older man’s chest. As Eggsy sags down, Harry grips him tightly and pumps into him until he comes, too, also almost loosing his conscience with a loud moan. 

They lean into each other slightly waving to the sides from the sudden exhaustion and blissful sating. Eggsy eventually presses a short kiss to Harry’s sweaty temple and gets up to get them a warm, wet towel to clean up. By the time he comes back from the bathroom, Harry’s lying on his back and dozing happily - with an actual smile on his face. 

“Sorry to tire you out like this, luv”, Eggsy says as he runs the towel over Harry’s cum-stained abdomen. The older man opens his eyes with a smug smile and looks down to Eggsy’s gentle hands cleaning him up. His lack of words does irritate Eggsy at first, but he gets used to it after a while when he’s done cleaning and just playfully wiggling Harry’s toes. 

A cover is lifted and both slip underneath it after Eggsy shuts the lights off. He feels like he is radiating of joy and contentment and love towards the older man, especially when Harry tugs him into his arms and presses him against his chest as if he was going to protect him.

“Everything okay?”, Harry asks with new concern.

Eggsy kisses his chest as a reply, taking in the sweaty smell of sex and bodies and home.


	21. Chapter 21

“Eggsy!”

Eggsy’s eyes open in a split second by how alarmed Harry sounds. He’s shaking him carefully by the shoulder and stares, having pushed himself up on his arms, out of the window with an anticipated expression.

“What?”, Eggsy asks, his voice more than cautious. Intruders? Henchman? He’ll fight them in an instant, his hand is already reaching for the blade hidden in the headboard. Luckily he’s lived here long enough to know where the dangerous shit is hidden.

Harry’s looking down at his lover with delight, light sparking from his eyes and his breath still a flustered and hitched. “It’s snowing, Eggsy!

“Oh fuck, ‘arry, you almost gave me an heart attack.”

Harry throws him a smug smile before jumping out of the bed and opening the drawers of their wardrobe. Eggsy sits up in bed and stares out of the window himself, feeling the tiredness and every aching bone in his body thanks to Harry’s well-done job last night. Still, the first snow always has something magical. Unearthly pure and refreshing, the final prove for the change of the season.

Harry’s back at the bed a second later and pulls Eggsy - just sitting there in a pair of pajama bottom’s - out with haste. “Come on”, he breathes, pressing some clothes into Eggsy’s hands and tugging him with him into the hallway, down the stairs and to the back door.

“Yes, it’s snowing”, Eggsy laughs confusedly, enjoying Harry’s excitement even more. 

Harry nods his head vehemently, a grin still engraved in his expression, and pulls a beanie over Eggsy’s head and a scarf around his still naked neck. 

Speechless, Eggsy watches Harry make himself ready and hurries to pull over one of Harry’s jumpers himself. The excitement jumps over to him when he sees how Harry’s hands shake while putting on a pair of shoes and he can’t help but smile like an idiot. 

Harry’s the first outside and stretches himself out to the sky, his head laid back to savour the cold of the snowflakes on his skin. Eggsy keeps standing in the doorway for a few moments longer, smiling at the sight of Harry in the snow. Disheveled and so so much alive. 

He sighs, before he sprint towards the older man and tackles his waist with his full body weight. They both fall into the fresh snow with grunting noises but break into laughter again when Eggsy tries to wash the older man’s face with ice. 

“Brat”, Harry calls him and throws snow back at him, so Eggsy has to duck and can be pushed away easily. He sees the danger in Harry’s eyes and stumbles to his feet, running off before Harry can get grip of him. Another ball of snow hits him when tries to hide behind a walnut tree and catches his breath. His pulse is dangerously fast and hammering against his chest, the adrenaline kicking in a second later. 

With a battle cry, he pick up two hands full of snow from the grass and leaves his coverage for a direct attack. The first ball of ice hits his face and slides into his collar before he can even make two steps.

“Bastard”, he curses and tries his hardest to shake the snow from his clothes and not make a face from the sudden cold on his chest. When he looks up, Harry is only two steps from him and has a predatory look on his face. 

They wrestle on the ground after Harry has tackled them both down and the older man ends up sitting on Eggsy and pressing his hands into the burning cold snow. 

Harry’s glowing from the cold and his excitement, his eyes bright and clear like and his cheeks reddened from the wash Eggsy gave him. The younger man laughs and has to look away for a second, just to make sure this is not some hallucination. Harry looks so incredibly happy, ridiculously content the world, and he’s staring directly at Eggsy, like he’s concentrating all his joy on the younger man.

“I give up, you won”, Eggsy breathes, suppressing another chuckle.

“Just like that?”, Harry asks and ice water drops from his hair to Eggsy’s face. “I thought you would be a little more...resistant”, he growls.

Eggsy grunts and spread his legs - fuck yeah gymnastics! - to push Harry’s afar and make the older man loose his stand. Harry falls onto him, but Eggsy’s fast to buckle his hips up and push them around in a swift movement, pinning Harry to the ground. Before the older man can react properly, Eggsy just shoves all the snow he can reach into Harry’s face and blinds him. Harry reaches out for him in confusion but Eggsy also put some ice on his stomach and Harry flinches from the cold.

Apparently, that little shift of power is enough to make Harry use his secret weapon: tickling. Eggsy’s already laughing when Harry’s hands move up his sides and throws himself away, out of danger zone.

The snow is burning on his bare ankles when Harry, after cleaning his face and spitting out snow in great lots, is on him again, now pressing flat onto his body and making Eggsy unable to move his legs.

Harry smiles so bright it makes Eggsy’s heart flutter even more. He can feel Harry’s heartbeat, too, through the two layers of soft cotton. At least he can imagine it.

Harry kisses him, briefly & hungry, too high on adrenaline to make it gentle. He’s passionate though, licking over Eggsy’s pink lips and tucking them between his teeth. Harry teases him enough to make Eggsy shift them again and Harry lets him, rolls over voluntarily and steadies Eggsy, who trembles a bit, with hands on his hips.

Eggsy takes his time, cupping Harry’s cold cheeks and combing the ice out of his wild curls with care. He takes himself back for a second, looking into the beloved face with all earnesty and clarity he has and waits for the joy of happiness to jump over to him. He feels bright, excited and in love, but it’s only almost enough to chase away the shadows nibbling on his consciousness. 

“I wish it would snow everyday like this”, Eggsy whispers lowly, leaning in to make their foreheads touch. “You look so goddamn happy.” 

“I am”, Harry says with a rough voice. His chin is stubbly and there are some circles under his eyes when Eggsy observes him carefully, but nothing like this can stop him from looking so utterly pleased. “But not only because of the snow.” 

It will last, Eggsy thinks. The darkness in his minds, the carusell maybe, but it’s not eternity and it’s endurable when he sucks in the look of that stupid grin of Harry’s. 

Eggsy smiles, too, and stifles the urge to kiss Harry again on his beautiful, wrinkled mouth. He concentrates to save this expression, burn it into his front lobe for bad times maybe. Because seeing Harry vulnerable or fond or naked is something valuable, but seeing him so happy and carefree is a one-in-a-thousand.

“Kiss me already”, Harry grunts under his breath, “my arse is freezing.”

“And we wouldn’t risk that, would we?”, Eggsy chuckles, before leaning down and pressing his lips on Harry’s again. He can feel the older man tense under him, stroking his sides with strong fingers, his breath hitching. 

Harry’s chest raising and sinking, his stupid stubble and his dimples are the most beautiful, most complex and mesmerizing living thing on this earth. Eggsy can’t stop looking at Harry in the light of the new day, reflected by the fresh snow. Harry wraps an arms around his waist and leads him back to the house, where JB waits in the door, too afraid to put a paw into the cold. And when they look back over their shoulders, there is this beautiful mess they’ve made. A chaos of paths and traces and a hole in the white blanket, where they kissed and Eggsy had decided this man to be a wonder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, this is it for now. I hope i found a sufficient end to what has been a long journey and - for me - a very personal fic, too.


End file.
